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The Third Revolution Ch. 01

By: swingerjoe



AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set in the future, but it is about a concept that is as old as human civilization itself. This is my first venture into the Sci-Fi category, and is the result of a writing challenge I gave to myself. I would greatly appreciate your feedback as the story progresses.

I debated whether to submit this saga as one long story, break it up into several long stories, or break it up even further into small, digestible chapters. As a reader, I usually have the time and attention span for only the shorter stories, so I chose the latter option. There are eleven chapters in total, each likely to consist of only one or two pages in length. I will submit these chapters one day apart so that you are not waiting too long between chapters.

Enjoy!

*

Jason Adams stood before his small apartment window and gazed between the buildings at the sunrise as it gradually revealed the bustling city he called home. Tiny vehicles swiftly navigated the streets below, while the foreboding high rises blocked all but a tiny sliver of the sky. Drones swept across his field of vision from all directions, some carrying packages, while others simply scanned the surroundings.

Jason sensed a presence behind him, and turned to see that Cori had entered the room with his morning beverage. He turned to steal one last look at the scenery, and found himself face-to-face with a weaponized drone, hovering mere inches from his nose, separated only by a thin pane of glass.

Catching his breath, he quickly pressed a button on the window, and a dark filter instantly replaced the transparent glass. Its interweaving vertical lines caused a shadow of light and dark along the length of his small apartment. The LED lights in the room automatically illuminated in response, slowly brightening to a dim and pale yellow.

"Good morning," Cori said in a cheerful tone.

"Good morning, Cori." A small table with built-in chairs had replaced the bed in the center of the room. He sat across the table from Cori, and picked up the dark green beverage set in front of him. He winced at the bitter taste. That first taste was always the toughest to swallow.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked with a smile, studying his expression with casual interest.

He nodded absent-mindedly and reached into his pocket, producing a small, square-shaped object. He repeatedly unfolded it until it reached the size of a standard sheet of paper, and then set it on the table using an extendable backing. With a tap of his finger, an ultra-high-definition image appeared, displaying an attractive woman seated at a desk.

"Good morning, Citizen Adams," the woman said in a pleasant voice. "It is Wednesday, March twentieth. You have an appointment this morning with the Department of Communications at seven thirty. Your morning commute to the office at 1617 Steyer Avenue will be seventeen minutes from door to door. A taxi will be waiting for you outside of the entrance."

He remained fixated on the screen as the personal assistant continued to provide him with his agenda and breaking news from around the world. He yawned, and swallowed another mouthful of his morning health drink. Beyond the display, he could see Cori still observing him in the casual manner to which he had grown accustomed. He tapped his foot as he listened to the story of the latest battle between the Islamic Republic and the Sino-Russian Alliance.

"You're nervous about today's meeting," Cori observed. It was more of a statement than a question.

Jason shrugged. "It's another move up," he stated, taking another sip of his drink. "It means a bigger place, a higher allowance, a better life for both of us."

"You know that your performance at this meeting does not matter," she said. "The decision has already been made. This is merely a formality."

"I know," he said. "I'm just afraid I might say or do something foolish and blow it."

"Would you like me to relieve your stress?" she asked with a smile. Jason diverted his eyes from the display for a moment and looked at her. With a smile and a nod, her head disappeared under the table.

He felt the familiar tug of his pants zipper, followed by the warmth of her mouth on his penis. She took the entire length into her mouth and swirled her tongue along the base, teasing his scrotum just the way he liked. Within no time, he felt himself becoming fully erect.

The tip of his cock bumped the back of her throat, and she began slowly bobbing back and forth along his shaft, from the tip of his head, back down to the base, over and over again. The motion of her warm, wet mouth gliding along his cock grew quicker and more urgent. She plunged her mouth down to the base of his cock until her nose pressed into his pubic hair. She then added suction to the swirling motion of her tongue as she slid back to the tip. Back and forth. Again and again.

The image on the display paused as Jason closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He emitted a low moan, and felt the familiar warm and tingling sensation in his groin. A powerful sensation rose through the length of his shaft, and through his sensitive head. That burst of pleasure was followed by another, and then another. Eventually, the waves of stimulation grew less intense, and his cock became soft and sensitive to touch.

Cori withdrew her mouth, zipped up his pants, and scooted backward under the table. She disappeared into the confined kitchen nook for a moment. He returned his attention to the video display, which resumed where it had left off. He heard the familiar whirring noise from the kitchen, followed by Cori's reappearance.

"You'd better be on your way," she said with a smile.

He folded the display several times, extended another flexible piece of curled tubing, and wrapped it behind his ear. He checked his zipper, gave Cori a kiss on her forehead, and exited into the cramped hallway.

The taxi was waiting for him outside of the entrance, with a sign on top emblazoned with his name and photo. Jason entered the cab and noticed several passengers resting in the seats along all four walls of the vehicle. Without a word, Jason took the last empty seat and tapped a button on the side of his device. A panoramic display appeared, featuring the same personal assistant he had been watching before.

"In domestic news," the assistant stated, "another terrorist attack was reported overnight. This one took place at a New Boston academy on Ayers Street. Twenty-three children were mercilessly butchered by terrorists who infiltrated the building wielding sharp weapons and home-made guns."

"Unbelievable," Jason muttered under his breath. "Fucking savages."

The woman seated next to him turned to face him. "Are you hearing about the terrorist attack last night?" she asked.

"Yes," he responded. "You know, I went to that academy. I can't even imagine the horror."

"We're not dealing with civilized people," the woman stated, shaking her head. "These are sub-human barbarians living on the other side of that wall, in the Outerlands."

"Do we know that for sure?" he asked.

"Well, who else would have done it?" she retorted.

A voice in the taxi announced that Jason had reached his final destination. He exited the cab and looked to his upper-left to note the time on his device. He couldn't help but notice a vending kiosk outside of the building, and smiled. He had just enough time to grab something a little sweet. That morning health drink always left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Chocolate bar," he said to the machine after spending several minutes standing in line.

"I am sorry, Citizen Adams, but you have reached your monthly allowance for sugar," the machine responded in a friendly female voice. "Perhaps you would like a piece of fruit instead."

"No, thanks," he said with a sigh.

***

"Citizen Adams," the woman said upon entering the conference room. Jason bowed his head, and she reciprocated the gesture. Like all other women in the city, she was tall, physically fit, and possessed the type of perfectly symmetrical beauty that had become the standard in genetic engineering. She wore her hair in the same short-cropped style and length, and donned the same clothing, as every other citizen in the city. And like every other citizen, she appeared bored and lifeless.

He looked to his upper-left, and hovering just above the woman's head was her identification card. He noted her name, height, weight, age, and background.

"It's nice to meet you, Citizen Connors," he said with a cautious smile. He briefly glanced at the table between them and spied a jar filled with small candies.

"Would you like one?" she asked, following the path of his eye.

He hesitated, contemplating whether she was testing him.

"It's okay," she said with a smile. "I know you have reached your monthly sugar allowance. I have the power to grant this exception. I also know that you have a bit of a sweet tooth. Please, go ahead and take one."

"Thank you," he said, smiling awkwardly. He slowly reached for the jar, maintaining eye contact with her, prepared to withdraw his hand at the first sign of deception. Finding no change in her expression, he plucked a single candy from the jar and placed it in his mouth.

As she spoke, her eyes focused just above his head and to the right. "You scored above the ninetieth percentile on your C-MAT exam in both logic and creativity," she noted. "That is an extremely rare quality."

"So I've been told," he replied. She looked him in the eyes, and it seemed as though she were examining him like a specimen in a lab. "I don't believe I've ever met anyone in the Adams bloodline before. Were you born here in the city?"

"As far as I am aware, yes," he replied.

She paused for a moment, as though she had lost her train of thought. "You have been promoted to the Director of Communications for this office, effective tomorrow. You will be tasked with composing all external communications from this office to the people. You will also be the primary speech writer for Senator Hobbes. Our former Director is retiring, and you will meet with him tomorrow to facilitate the transition."

Jason nodded. "I thank the State for this opportunity."

"You have an exemplary record of performance for the State since your graduation from the Academy," she noted. "This promotion is merited." She tapped the side of her device and removed it from her head, placing it on the table between them. Jason did the same.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked.

"I'm wondering...are there added benefits with this promotion?"

She smiled. "Yes, of course. Effective immediately, you have been promoted to ration level seven. You will receive a higher security level, and an upgraded living quarters."

"Thank you," he replied.

"You will also be assigned a new com—"

"No!" he interrupted. His face flushed as he realized his rudeness. "I apologize," he said. "That won't be necessary."

"As you wish," she said with a knowing grin.

***

"Chocolate bar," Jason said, enunciating every syllable for added effect. He lifted the door of the vending machine and reaped the reward of his newly-upgraded ration. He unwrapped the candy and took a bite, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. He placed the remainder in his pocket, electing to save the rest of it for later.

A siren blared from the speakers surrounding the city streets, and every citizen stopped where they were, turned toward the nearest flag, and placed their hands over their hearts.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag," the group intoned in unison, "of the People's State of America, and to the community for which it represents. One collective society, working together, for the common good, with equality and fairness for all."

With their final words still echoing along the canyon of brick and mortar, the citizens resumed their activities. Jason placed his device behind his ear once more, and noted the time. He considered ordering a taxi to his location, but instead, a devious thought occurred to him. He began walking down the street at a brisk pace.

He glanced at his location on the GPS. Still surrounded by green. He picked up his pace, and brushed past pedestrians who hardly seemed to notice him. The cool breeze washed over his face as he broke into a slow jog. The image on the GPS blinked rapidly, and turned to yellow.

Bright lights from the LED displays mounted along the building walls whooshed by in a blur of color and motion. Jason pushed himself further. His feet pounded the pavement, his heart thumped, and the adrenaline rushed through his veins. A broad smile forced its way onto his face, causing his cheeks to ache.

The image on the GPS flashed once more, and turned to red. Jason glanced in all directions in frantic search of the inevitable. He was at a full sprint now, arms pumping at his sides, people brushing past him on the streets, now looking at him with curiosity and concern. He began laughing uncontrollably. He glanced at the GPS once more. He was now a full five city blocks away from where he began.

"Stop right there!" a loud voice intoned. Jason complied immediately, and instinctively raised his hands over his head in surrender.

He slowly turned to face a hovering drone, its weapon aimed directly at him. He could almost feel the red dot of the laser boring a hole through his forehead.

"Citizen Adams, why have you traveled so far outside of your designated travel zone?" the voice from the drone asked.

"I was merely looking for the nearest fitness center," Jason explained, breathless. "I must have gotten lost somehow."

"Is your GPS unit not functioning properly?" the voice asked.

"It must be defective," Jason responded with a shrug. His arms felt so heavy, it was difficult to keep them raised. He didn't dare let them drop.

The drone hovered for a moment, as if calculating its next response. "The nearest fitness center is two blocks in the direction from which you came," the voice stated. "You are advised to proceed to that location immediately."

"Yes, of course," Jason said. "Thank you." Hesitantly, he lowered his arms. The drone positioned itself behind him and followed him back down the street until he reached the entrance to the fitness center. When he finally summoned the courage to turn around, it was gone. He smiled and exhaled a sigh of relief.

Inside the fitness center, Jason undressed in the locker room, removing all of his clothes and storing them in a locker along with his device. Alongside him, several men and women dressed and undressed with casual indifference. He strode out of the locker room, fully nude, carrying only a towel. Finding an opening, he submerged himself into the cool liquid of the exercise chamber.

"Good afternoon, Citizen Adams," came the voice from his personal assistant. A display appeared before him, hovering at eye level, as the machine below him began moving, forcing him to move his arms and legs to keep pace with it. "Let's begin our first mental exercise," the assistant said. "In this test, you will be shown a sequence of shapes. Please indicate the next shape that should appear at the end of this sequence."

As Jason continued his dual workout, dozens of citizens surrounding him entered and exited their exercise pods. Jason was oblivious to them all, including the exquisite orange-haired woman with the high cheek bones who seemed to be observing him as she exercised in the pod adjacent to his.

***

"Good evening," Cori chirped as Jason entered his new apartment on the twenty-fifth floor. "How do you like the new place?"

Jason peered around the room at its empty, beige-colored walls, the beige carpeting, and the sparse furniture. It was larger than his old apartment, but only slightly. He was hoping the new place would feature a private bathroom, but it appeared as though he would continue using the communal bathroom at the end of the hallway.

"It's nice," he said. He slumped into his chair at the table in the center of the room, and Cori placed a bowl in front of him, which was brimming with a steaming-hot, off-white, porridge-like substance. He swallowed as much as he could while she peppered him with questions about his day. He decided to omit the story about running in the streets and his encounter with the drone, knowing that it would only lead to another lecture.

"I'm thinking of going to the arcade," he said as he scooped up the last spoonful from his bowl.

"Again?" she responded with a scowl. "What is it about that place that you enjoy so much? I don't understand."

"I don't know," he said. "I just like old things, I guess. You know that I'm a history buff. There is something about those old games that makes me feel connected with those old times."

"But you can play those games here," she reminded him.

"I know. I just like getting out every once in a while."

She scanned his expression for a moment, cocking her head to the side and squinting her eyes. "Okay, fine," she said, "but be home by eleven."

***

Jason entered the dilapidated building and was immediately deluged by the sound of electronic beeps and buzzes. He strode past rows of machines: old pinball machines, ancient electronic games with primitive pixilated graphics, buttons and joysticks, and games played on table tops.

He moved past a row of electronic games that simulated auto driving. It was difficult for him to envision a time when people piloted their own vehicles, but those types of games were his favorite. As he moved toward the end of the row, he spotted a young boy attempting to play the auto game. On the screen, the boy's car crashed into walls and other vehicles repeatedly, and then stalled in the middle of the virtual road. Jason smiled, remembering the times when the academy would take him and his classmates on field trips. It was during one of those outings that he discovered this arcade.

"Here, let me show you," he said. He placed a token in the game next to the boy's, and pressed a button to start. He pushed the gas pedal to the floor and navigated through the virtual streets with ease and dexterity. Beside him, the boy watched in excitement and awe. When the game ended, Jason turned to the boy with a smile.

"How do you do that?" the boy asked.

"Practice," Jason responded. "Hours and hours of practice."

Rising from his seat, he moved past the machines to the back of the room. He continued down a darkened hallway and descended a flight of stairs. At the door at the bottom of the stairs, he pressed a button. A red laser emitted from a spot on the wall next to the door, expanding into a full grid that covered his body from head to toe. Jason stood motionless for a moment while the laser completed its scan.

A small door opened to his right, and he removed the device from around his ear and placed it in the box. The door made a clicking sound, and Jason opened it and strode into the dimly-lit room beyond. Several small tables were situated around the floor, with only a handful of them occupied. He proceeded to his left and took a seat at the bar along the wall.

"Jason!" the bartender said with a smile. "It's good to see you!"

"Good to see you, Arlo," Jason responded. "How's business?"

"Well, you know how it goes," Arlo said. "I wake up, I do my job, and if I'm lucky I get to do it all over again the next day."

"I hear you," Jason laughed.

Arlo rubbed his hands together in dramatic fashion. "So, what do you have for me this time?"

Jason gave him a sly grin and reached into his jacket pocket, producing a compressed roll of toilet paper. He handed it across the bar, and Arlo snatched it from his hand.

"Just what I needed," Arlo said with a wink. "How did you know?"

"I've been coming here since I was a kid," Jason responded. "I think I know you well enough by now."


The Third Revolution Ch. 01



"Ah, yes, you have. And I know you, too. In fact, I have something here that I know you're gonna love."

Arlo turned his back to Jason and appeared to pour something from the counter behind the bar. He turned his head and peered over his shoulder, flashing Jason a wicked grin. With a flourish, he turned and placed a glass of bubbling liquid in front of Jason.

Jason looked at Arlo with astonishment and examined the glass closely, looking at it from all angles. He placed his face over the glass, and jerked his head back when the bubbles tickled his nose.

"What on earth is that?" he asked.

Arlo laughed out loud. "It's called soda. This one here is cola, to be exact. Go ahead, taste it."

"Taste it?" Jason exclaimed with wide eyes. "You gotta be kidding me. You sure this stuff is safe to drink?"

"Only one way to find out," Arlo said, pushing the glass gently toward his friend.

Jason looked at the glass, and then back to Arlo. He raised the glass to his lips, bracing himself. With one last glance at Arlo, he closed his eyes and took a sip.

"Wow!" Jason shouted. "That is like liquid candy!"

"I told you you'd like it!" Arlo said with a hearty laugh.

Jason took another, larger, sip, and savored the sensation of bubbly sweetness before swallowing it.

"How have I lived my entire life without tasting this magical concoction?"

"You should try it with rum," Arlo said. "Spiced rum is even better."

Jason downed another gulp. "You're sure this is safe?"

"Well, the State made it illegal a long time ago. Said it led to obesity."

"Does it?"

"Well, yeah, if you drink enough of it!"

Jason shook his head. "Where did you get it?"

"Actually," Arlo said, "the citizen at that table behind you, in the corner, brought it in just before you got here."

Jason turned and spotted a woman seated at a table where Arlo had pointed. She had beautiful skin, high cheek bones, and pouty lips, and her hair was the color of a sunset. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and didn't seem to notice Jason looking in her direction. Then she turned her head and smiled at him, and motioned for him to join her at the table.

"If you'll excuse me, Arlo," Jason said, "I need to know where she got this."

"Don't mind me," Arlo responded to Jason's back. "I'll just be standing here all night, talking to myself."

Jason approached the table, and the woman motioned toward the seat across the table.

"Good evening, citizen," he said. "I just want to thank you for bringing this amazing drink tonight."

"You're very welcome, Jason," she said. He gave her a puzzled look, and his eyes darted from one of her ears to the other. "Yes, I know who you are," she laughed. "I don't need a device to tell me."

"Okay," he said, "then maybe you can tell me who you are."

"My name is Elena Hale," she said, and extended her hand across the table.

Jason looked at her hand and laughed. He then extended his own and shook her hand. "A handshake?" he said. "That is a rather old-fashioned custom, isn't it? Some consider it offensive."

"Are you offended, Mr. Adams?" she asked with an expression of amusement.

"No, it doesn't offend me," he responded. "Neither does your gender-specific label of 'mister,' for that matter. I find the old customs endearing in a way."

"Well, that explains why you are here in a place like this," she said, waving her hand.

He drained the last remaining drop of soda from his glass, and Elena signaled to Arlo to bring them another round.

"May I ask how you know me?" he asked.

"We have a common acquaintance," she answered. "For now, we'll leave it at that."

Arlo placed two full glasses of soda in front of them, and Elena raised her glass in a toast. Jason chuckled and clinked his glass against hers.

"Yet another ancient custom," he noted. "You are an old soul, Citizen—err, Ms. Hale."

She laughed in response, and sipped her soda.

"May I ask where you found this...cola, is it?" he asked.

"I didn't find it," she stated. "I made it. And there is a lot more where that comes from, believe me."

"Would you mind sharing the recipe?"

"Now, Jason, you know that would be illegal," she teased.

"To be honest," he said, looking around the room tentatively, "I don't really understand why it's illegal. I mean, if it is safe to drink in small portions, then why not allow people to consume it in that way?"

Elena nodded her head with a knowing smirk. "You tell me why it's illegal."

He thought for a moment. "Well, most people can't be trusted to monitor themselves. It's human nature to consume more than is healthy for you. If too many people consume too much of this soda, it could lead to health problems, which would be costly to the Community. It is in the best interests of the State to regulate - and even ban - that which is potentially harmful to us."

"Bravo, Citizen Adams," she responded with mock applause. "The State has certainly taught you well."

Jason hung his head and took a sip of his drink. "And what about you? What has the State taught you?"

Elena smiled. "Jason, I want to tell you a story. This story has been passed down for many years. I'm told it began as a song, although I've never heard it. It is about a forest. In this forest, the maple trees stir up trouble with the other trees in the forest, because the oak trees are robbing them of too much sunlight.

"The oaks reply that they cannot help the way they are. They are taller by nature, and naturally block more of the sun because of their height. They wonder why the maples can't simply be happy in their shade. But the maples scream 'oppression' and band together, gaining the support of other trees. They demand equal rights to the sunlight, and cast the oaks as their greedy oppressors.

"They convince the other trees in the forest to pass a noble law making all trees equal. And in the end, all of the trees become equal...by hatchet, axe and saw."

Jason paused for a moment, uncertain whether the story had ended. "I'm sorry, Elena," he said at last. "I think I understand the point of your story, but I can't get past the talking trees." He chuckled to himself, but Elena maintained a deadpan expression.

She rose from the table and stood beside him. "It has been nice meeting you, Mr. Adams," she said. "Enjoy the rest of your soda."

"Wait!" he said, rising from his seat.

Elena put her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down. "I will see you again, don't worry."

"When? Where?"

"I'll find you," she said. And with that, she exited the bar and disappeared through the crowded arcade and onto the streets.



The Third Revolution Ch. 02



"Citizen Adams," the old man said, bowing his head. "Welcome."

"Thank you, Citizen Lewis," Jason responded, bowing in return. "I look forward to learning the new position."

"Let me start by taking you on a tour," Marshall Lewis said. He turned and walked down the hallway, past rows of citizens seated in small cubicles, busily speaking into their headsets. He appeared to move easily for a man of retirement age. He seemed physically fit and younger than Jason imagined he would be.

He led Jason into a small conference room. "This is the main office of the Director," he stated. "It's where you will be spending most of your days." Jason looked at the cramped, windowless room and nodded.

Marshall continued to lead him down the hallway, pointing out areas of interest along the way. "This is the break room," he explained, pointing to a small room with a table at the center, and various appliances along the counter. "There is a fitness center on the fourth floor. The top floor is where the control room is located. And the senator's office is located on the floor below it."

"How often do you meet with the senator?" Jason asked.

"Daily," Marshall responded. "Senator Hobbes will meet with you at eight o'clock each morning, sharp. Do not be late. Trust me on that."

Jake glanced at the time on his device. "It's 7:45 right now."

"Then we'd better go," Marshall said with a slight hint of panic.

They rode the elevator to the sixty-fifth floor. The doors opened, revealing an expansive office decorated in the most decadent style Jason had ever seen. The tables were made of etched glass and marble, the floors appeared to be dark, polished oak strewn with Oriental carpets. The walls were covered with elaborate and beautiful paintings, interspersed with the stuffed heads of exotic animals.

Marshall spoke to the secretary at the front desk, and they waited for a moment before she signaled for them to proceed into the senator's office.

"Your device," Marshall whispered urgently, motioning for Jason to remove his device before entering the senator's office. "Never wear it around the senator."

Two massive, hand-carved, wooden doors opened automatically, revealing another richly-decorated office. The senator was waiting for them, seated behind his massive mahogany desk cluttered with curious-looking antiques.

He spoke not a word as Marshall directed Jason to one of the two leather chairs in front of the desk. It was the most comfortable chair Jason had ever experienced. The senator glared at them from behind his desk, staring impatiently at Marshall.

"Senator, I would like to introduce you to Jason Adams," Marshall said, waving to his right. "He is starting today as my replacement."

Senator Hobbes shifted his emotionless stare toward Jason. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Senator," Jason said. "I am honored to be given this opport—"

"What is the status on that speech assignment I gave you, Lewis?" Hobbes said to Marshall.

"Senator, I completed it last night, after hours," Marshall responded.

"I don't care when you completed it, you fool," the senator said. "Where is it?"

"I...I sent it to you late last night, Senator."

"Clarissa!" the senator shouted. His secretary instantly appeared at the door. "Did we receive a speech sent by Citizen Lewis last night?"

"Yes, Senator," she said.

"Then why don't I have it?"

"I am sorry, Senator, but I believe you do."

Hobbes glared at her. He tapped on his desk and swiped his finger several times. He jammed his finger into the desk with force and swiped once more.

"Come here," the senator ordered, pointing at his secretary. He stood and walked around his desk, and she hurried to stand in front of him. Before she could say a word, he smacked her hard across the face with his open palm, sending her reeling backward.

"Get up!" he barked. She slowly rose to her feet and stood before him again, whimpering softly. "Are you trying to make me look foolish?"

"No, Senator," she whispered.

He repeated her words in a mocking, high-pitched tone. She tried to speak again, and received another slap across the face. He grabbed her by the chin and raised her head until they were nose-to-nose.

"I've told you before that mouth of yours is only good for one thing," he hissed. "Now, crawl under my desk." She scampered around his desk and crawled underneath, as ordered.

He unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock as he walked back to his desk and sat in his chair. He looked down and smirked, and then casually resumed his business, turning to Jason.

"I've looked at your record, Adams," he said over the sound of slurping and sucking. "You're very lucky to be where you are right now, do you know that?"

"Yes, Senator," Jason responded.

Hobbes scoffed. "No. No, you don't have any idea. Just to let you know, I was opposed to your promotion, but the State overrode my objection. I guess they think they can keep a closer eye on you from here. But I'm telling you right now, if you even think about stepping out of line, you will be escorted from this building, and you will never see daylight again. Are we clear?"

Jason nodded, paralyzed from the neck down.

"What is your agenda today, Lewis?" the senator said, turning suddenly to Marshall.

"Senator, I will be spending most of the day transitioning Citizen Adams, as he is expected to take over full-time starting tomorrow."

"Fine, but you will also complete your daily tasks as well. The content for our communications bulletin, copy for the personal assistants, and the script for Marketing. I don't care if you need to work through the night, I expect that it will all be done when Adams reports to me tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Senator," Marshall said.

"You know, it's a fucking shame that the State still requires humans to do your jobs. Now get out of here," Hobbes said. "Both of you."

Jason and Marshall hurried out of the office and boarded the elevator, each heaving a sigh of relief when the doors closed.

"Congratulations on your promotion," Marshall said, managing a crooked smile.

"Yeah...thanks," Jason responded. "You must be relieved to be retiring. I hear the benefits are amazing."

Marshall responded with silence. He stared straight ahead, and his eyes reddened. The doors opened, and they exited the elevator. Jason was about to speak when the siren blared. He stopped and turned toward the flag: a rectangle of red with two white horizontal lines in the center.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag..." he chanted, along with his fellow citizens.

Suddenly, the video displays in the office flickered. As the workers continued to recite their pledge, the monitors flashed a message, which spanned the entirety of each screen. It read: "Freedom is never volunteered by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed."

***

Jason strode toward the building's exit at the end of the day, exhausted and stressed. Just as he reached the door, he collided with a woman who was entering through the same door. It took him a moment to realize it was Elena from the arcade.

"Don't say anything," she whispered. She grabbed his hand, placed an object in his palm, and continued her path into the building.

Once he entered the taxi, Jason discreetly unfolded the piece of paper in his palm.





The Third Revolution Ch. 03



Jason awoke with a blast of icy water to his face. He attempted to stand, but an impact to the back of his knees forced him back to the cement floor. His temples throbbed, and his vision was blurred. Gradually, the figures in the room came into focus.

Looming before him stood a large uniformed officer of the State. He wore the same closely-cropped haircut as the rest of the police force, and there was a scar on his face that extended from the bottom of his left eye, down the length of his cheek, nearly reaching the corner of his mouth. The identification tag on his uniform read: "CHEKA."

Writhing in pain on the floor, Jason realized he was completely naked. The floor was damp and cold, and the room was dimly-lit and reeked of urine and feces. In addition to Officer Cheka, two other uniformed policemen flanked either side, brandishing long clubs with electric currents rippling through the ends.

"Wakey, wakey," Cheka said in a deep and gravelly voice that echoed off the concrete walls of the room. He slapped both sides of Jason's face repeatedly until his hands raised in defense.

"Look at me," Cheka ordered. Jason's eyes swirled as he tried to focus on the officer's rough exterior. Cheka held up an image on his device, depicting what appeared to be a screen capture from a security camera. "You know this citizen?" he asked.

Jason struggled to focus on the image. Gradually, it came into focus. He recognized her immediately.

"Elena," he croaked.

"Is that what she's calling herself now?" Cheka retorted. "How do you know her?"

"I...don't, really. I only met her once."

"Bullshit," Cheka said.

"I'm telling the truth!" Jason shouted. In an instant, a bolt of electricity seized every muscle in his body. He writhed in silent agony. When the pain subsided, he struggled to catch his breath.

"I'll ask one more time," Cheka said in a calm and sinister tone.

"I met her once, at an arcade," Jason groaned. "We talked for only a brief moment. I didn't see her again until tonight."

"What did you talk about?" Cheka growled.

"She...she told me a story about trees."

Cheka exchanged glances with the other officers, and then broke into raucous laughter. Jason slumped to the floor, and was jolted once more with an electric prod applied to the center of his spine.

"It looks like you need to spend some quality time alone with your thoughts. Maybe I'll ask the same question again in a few days. Or maybe I'll just let you rot in there. It depends what kind of mood I'm in."

With that, the two officers on either side grabbed him by the arms and dragged him into an adjoining cell. They tossed him inside like a rag doll and slammed the metal door. Jason sprawled onto the floor and lost consciousness once again.

When he awoke, it took him a moment to realize where he was. The floor was cold, causing him to shiver uncontrollably. Jason crawled around in the darkness, searching for a sheet or pillow or anything to warm him. He found nothing but a hole in the floor. The nauseating odor emanating from that hole indicated why it was there.

He huddled into a corner of the room, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to quell the shaking. He heard the sound of screaming in the distance. It grew louder, and then a light flickered on the other side of the room. He ran to the light, and peered through the horizontal slats in the small window of the metal door.

From his left, he saw Officer Cheka enter the room. He reflexively hid from sight until he passed. Two more officers entered the room, dragging a naked young man by the arms. Jason could see the look of terror in the man's eyes as they led him to the adjoining room. It seemed as though an hour passed, which was filled with sounds of that young man's horrific screams, the crackle of electric prods, and the steady pounding of clubs on flesh. Jason stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed to drown out the sounds, but it was of no use. The young man's haunting eyes were burned into his memory.

Days passed. Jason counted each day by the number of times his morning health drink would appear from the small opening at the bottom of his door. He would receive a health drink each morning, a cup of water twice a day, and a small bowl of gruel at night. By his count, it had been eight days since he had last seen the outside of his cell.

He had expected Cheka to interrogate him on a regular basis, just as he witnessed the officers interrogating and torturing the young man in the adjoining cell each night. Yet, for reasons unknown, no one had spoken a word to him. He simply sat in the corner of his cell, or paced the floor, for hours upon hours, day after day.

He had become used to the cold floor, and the shivering had mercifully subsided. He exercised as often as he could, both to raise his body temperature and out of sheer boredom. He found himself rehearsing the mental exercises that had become part of his daily routine. He attempted to communicate with the young man in the next cell several times, to no avail.

By the eighteenth day, Jason began to feel as though he were losing his sanity. He had conversations with himself throughout the day, and experienced hallucinations of people and places from his past. He began to resent Elena for bringing this fate upon him. Why did she need to speak with him again? Why would she risk his safety in such a careless way? What could possibly be so important?

The small opening at the bottom of the door flashed open, and his morning drink was pushed into the cell. Jason snatched it away and took a sip. Although it was still bitter, he now looked forward to that bitterness. It was practically the highlight of his day.

He savored each sip until his cup was empty. He ran his finger along the sides of the cup to capture as much of it as he could, and then placed the empty cup along the wall, adding it to a growing collection. Eventually, he decided, he would toss the entire collection down the hole in the floor, as they were merely taking up valuable space and limiting his walking area.

He heard footsteps in the hallway outside, and the light flickered once more, allowing him to see the inside of his cell. The collection of cups and bowls was indeed growing out of control. The door to his cell was pulled open, and Jason leapt backward toward the opposite wall and tried to make himself invisible.

"Prisoner Adams, come with me," an unfamiliar officer said, holding the door open.

Jason hesitated, and stepped slowly toward the officer, bracing himself for a jolt of electric current or a blow to the back of the knees. Neither came as he stepped out of the cell for the first time in nearly three weeks.

The officer's expression gave no hint as to his intentions. He motioned for Jason to walk down the hallway. He then directed Jason into a small room with drains on the floor. Jason stood in the corner of the room, and was pummeled with soapy water from every direction. This was followed by a deluge of cold water, and then a blast of hot air.

The officer motioned for Jason to follow him once more. When they reached the next room, the officer handed him a pile of folded laundry, which he recognized as the standard-issue clothing of every citizen. He obediently began dressing.

"What—" he began to ask.

"Quiet, prisoner," the officer interrupted. "Just do as you're told."

Jason complied, and finished dressing, cinching the built-in belt to a much lower setting than usual. He raised his hand to his face and stroked his fingers through his beard.

"You can shave when you return to your living quarters," the officer informed him.

"L—living quarters?"

"You're being released, prisoner."

***

Jason stumbled through the door, weak and hungry. Cori greeted him with a warm embrace and helped him to the chair at the table, where his dinner was set, hot and more delicious than he ever remembered. He didn't care to talk about what had happened, and she didn't press him for information. He was simply happy to be home.

Life returned to normal over the next several days. Jason resumed his new job assignment with the Department of Communications, and learned that Marshall's retirement had been extended until his return. Senator Hobbes continued to display curious contempt for him at each and every morning meeting, and seemed to treat him with greater belligerence in the wake of his arrest.

He steered clear of the arcade, and stayed within his designated travel zone at all times, doing everything the State expected of him. The work that he performed with his new assignment earned praise from everyone except the senator.

"Your writing is far too rational for the common citizen to relate to it," Hobbes once told him. "The way to connect with people is to appeal to their emotions. Facts and reason matter nothing to those people. All they care about is whether or not something makes them feel good. The intentions of our policies matter far more to them than the results."

Jason worked many long nights writing speeches and scripts on behalf of Senator Hobbes. Not a public word was uttered by the senator that wasn't written by Jason. Both the questions and answers at his staged press conferences, his appearances on entertainment shows, and even his live public appearances, where actors portrayed the audience and peppered the senator with "tough questions", were all scripted to the letter. Jason's rough scripts were reviewed by a panel of advisors, who would almost always send their revisions back to him. The revised copy would undergo a second scrubbing before the final copy landed on Senator Hobbes' desk.

The days blended together as time passed. At night, Jason would often lay awake, reflecting upon his time in prison, and the events that led to that traumatic time. He could not understand why the State was so interested in Elena, or why they suddenly released him. The arresting officer had called her a "terrorist." Was she one of the people responsible for the murders of those children at his old academy, and all the other horrific attacks that have taken place throughout the city in recent years?

He liked to believe that he understood the nature of people better than most. It was one of the qualities that he felt made him a good writer. He was able to connect with people in a way that was unique and special. Elena did not seem like the type of person capable of committing such atrocities.

He returned again and again to her story about the trees. What was the point of that story? And what was so important that she risked her life to meet with him again, knowing the State had discovered her whereabouts?

After more than a week of restless sleep, he decided to visit the arcade once more. It was a great risk, and it took a great deal of convincing for Cori to allow him to go, but he had to know the truth. If Elena were still alive, and not imprisoned, the arcade seemed to be the most likely place to find her.

When he walked through the door of the bar in the basement of the arcade, Arlo embraced him across the bar like a long-lost friend.

"I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed.

"Not yet," Jason responded. "But I'm getting closer."

"What can I get you?" Arlo asked. Jason reached into his jacket. "No, no," Arlo interrupted. "This one's on the house."

Jason smiled. "Got any more soda?"

"Sorry, my friend."

"Then I'll take the strongest drink you've got back there."

As Arlo poured something from a large glass jar, Jason scanned the bar. A handful of people chatted across their tables or drank alone while watching the displays on their table tops. He made eye contact with a woman who had short, black hair and deep blue eyes. She quickly looked away. Something about her seemed familiar.

"Here you go," Arlo said with a smile. "I made it myself."

Jason took a small sip. It felt as though he were drinking liquid fire. He quickly choked it down and loudly coughed while his face turned red. "What did you make it with?" he croaked. "Gasoline?"

He remained at the bar for as long as he could. He returned again and again over the next several days, but found no sign of Elena. He could only surmise that she had been captured by the State. It would explain why they let him go. There was simply no reason to hold him any longer.

During a typical workday, he strode into the locker room of his building's fitness center after his daily workout. When he opened his locker, a note fell to the floor. He whipped his head around, looking for anyone who may have been watching. Surreptitiously, he crouched down and picked it up.

The note simply listed a time and place. He wondered if perhaps this was a trap. It would not have contradicted the senator's character to send someone to plant that note in an effort to get Jason thrown in jail permanently. With his heart racing, he tried to appear casual as he dressed. He took another look at the note, and spotted something else beneath the text, but it was too small to read.

He gave a furtive glance in all directions and placed his device around his ear. Tapping the side of the device, he zoomed in on the area below the text. It read: "Are you a maple or an oak?"



The Third Revolution Ch. 04



Jason paced back and forth in front of the repair shop, which was across the street from the distribution center where he had told Cori he would be. Luckily, the repair shop was within an acceptable radius, and therefore no attention would be drawn to him.

He glanced at the time. Whoever was supposed to meet him at that location was two minutes late. He considered sprinting across the street and standing in line for his ration of supplies. It wasn't too late to return home within a plausible amount of time.

Just as he began to cross the street, he heard the unmistakable whir of a drone, growing louder and louder. He spotted it straight ahead. It was heading directly toward him with its weapon drawn. In a panic, he turned and fled in the opposite direction, then made a sharp turn down an alleyway to the right. The drone followed him.

Without thinking, he sprinted as quickly as he could and made a left hand turn down the next side street. There, he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at a drone that hovered directly in front of his face. He froze as the second drone closed in on him from behind.

He raised his hands, gasping for breath. "I didn't do anything," he said.

The red dot from the drone's laser sight suddenly went black. Its blades stopped spinning, and it crashed to the ground in front of him. He heard a second crash behind him, and turned to see the second drone lying on the pavement as well.

He turned to see if anyone had witnessed what had just happened, and that's when he spotted her. The woman from the bar with the jet-black hair and blue eyes held an object in her hand, which was pointed directly at him. She stood less than ten yards away, motionless and silent.

"Let's go," she said to him, "before they wake up."

"Go where?" he asked.

"You tell me," she said.

At first, he didn't comprehend what she was saying. Apparently, she knew who he was and why he was there, but didn't know where he was heading. Was this woman sent by Elena?

"We don't have much time," she stated.

"Repair shop," he said. "I'm supposed to meet someone at the repair shop."

"Then let's go," she said. "You lead the way."

He led her back toward the direction from which he came, to the front entrance of the repair shop. Both doors were locked, and it didn't appear that anyone was inside.

"Back door," she said, taking off at a sprint. He followed closely behind. She turned the handle of the back door and it opened. They walked inside together, into the darkness.

They stood for a moment, silent. A door opened across the room, bathing them in light. A feminine silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Mister Adams," a familiar voice called out.

"Elena?" Jason answered. "Is that you?"

"Who is that with you?" she asked.

"This...well...actually, I don't know her name," he said.

"Kat," the woman responded.

Elena stood silent and still for a moment. "I was hoping you would come alone, Jason."

"It's okay," he said. "Kat helped me get here. If it weren't for her, I'd probably be in prison."

Elena pressed a button and the lights in the room slowly brightened, revealing several boxes, crates, and tools. "Then I thank you, Kat, for getting him here. But if you don't mind, this is a private meeting."

"I'm sorry, Kat," Jason whispered. "If you wouldn't mind..."

Kat sighed. "Not a problem," she said. "I'll just wait outside with the drones."

"You can wait right here," Jason said. "That won't be a problem, will it, Elena?"

Elena sighed, and motioned for Jason to join her. They disappeared behind the door while Kat found a wooden chair in the corner. Beyond the door was a small room with a desk at its center and several shelves along the walls. Elena sat behind the desk and opened a drawer. She produced a bottle of dark brown liquid, and poured a couple of glasses, pushing one across the desk toward him. The familiar fizzing sound brought a smile to his face.

"I thought you were dead," he said to her, "or imprisoned for life."

"I have been running from those drones for a very long time," she said. "I've become quite good at it."

"Well, I'm not. You know they locked me up in that prison? I was there for almost three weeks."

"I am sorry about that. I really am."

"You know they are calling you a terrorist."

Her eyes flashed, and she smiled. "Yes, I'm sure they are. And do you believe them? Do you believe I'm a terrorist?"

He examined her for a moment and took a sip of soda. "Logically, I think it's possible. But my instinct tells me no."

"So you believe the State is lying, then?" A look of fear came over him, and his eyes darted about the room. "It's okay," she assured him. "There are no listening devices in this room, nor cameras of any kind. We scan this room on a regular basis to ensure that."

He fidgeted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his head. "I suppose so, yes. If you are not a terrorist, then the State is lying."

"I assure you that I am not a terrorist, Mr. Adams," she said with a smile.

"Okay, tell me what's going on. Why am I here? Why do you keep tracking me down? Why is the State looking for you?"

Elena took a sip of her soda and closed her eyes, savoring the taste. "Mr. Adams, do you know where you were born?"

"I don't know, exactly, but I assume it was here in the city."

Elena shook her head. "What if I were to tell you that isn't true? In fact, you were not born here in New Boston. And in fact, your name isn't even Jason Adams."

He stared at her intently and waited for her to continue.

"You were born with the name Jason Locke. Unlike the others in this city, you were not genetically engineered in a lab, and your parents were not merely DNA donors. Nor were you birthed by a surrogate mother. Mr. Adams – that is, Mr. Locke – you were born naturally."

Jason sat in stunned silence. His mind reeled with confusion. "How can that be?" he said.

"You were born on a small tropical island off the coast of what was then called Honduras," she stated. "Your parents fled to that island during the Second Revolution. They managed to remain hidden until the merger of the Americas Alliance. When that agreement was signed, the Honduran militia seized your family's assets and extradited you and your parents to New Boston, where your parents originated."

Jason rose from his chair and began pacing the floor, running his fingers through his hair.

"This is crazy," he said.

"Your father was a very skilled technical architect," she continued. "The State had a pressing need for his services. He refused to work for them. As a result, your mother was executed, right in front of his eyes. An officer with the State then turned his weapon on you. That is when your father relented. He agreed to work for the State in exchange for your life."

Jason's mind reeled, but he fought to maintain his composure. "How do you know all of this?" he asked.

"Your father sent me to find you," she stated. "It took a lot of work. You have no idea how many people, and how much time, it has taken to locate you. But we did it."

"My father," Jason said. "Where is he?"

"He is still working as a loyal servant to the State," she responded. "He nearly single-handedly built the State's information network, its communications system, and its firewall protection."

"Where can I find him?"

"That is why I brought you here, Jason. I am with a group that has committed a great deal of our lives fighting against the State. We seek to bring down the walls of the State, and we need your father to help us achieve our goal. We have managed to hack the State's communications network several times, but our cyber attacks are repelled almost instantly by the network. We need your father's expertise to break through that network and broadcast our message to the people."

"Then why haven't you recruited him?"

"We have been in contact with him for quite some time. He refused to leave the State until we found you and ensured your safety."

Jason continued to pace the floor. "What do you want from me?"

"Once we have convinced your father to join us, we will take him to meet with our leader, John Reardon. All I need from you right now is a decision: are you in or out? If you are in, you come with us. We give you a new identity. We take you somewhere safe. We reunite you with your father. But your life as you have known it would be over. You would no longer have a home, a job, a daily ration of food, nor anything else to which you have grown accustomed."

"And if I'm out?"

"Then you return to your normal life. You go back to your work for the State and your apartment in the city. You deny any knowledge or association with me and our group, and you will never see me again. That, I promise you."

Jason slumped forward in his chair and held his head in his hands. He remained in that position for several minutes as he was overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions. He had never known anything in his life except service to the State. He had worked hard to attain his position by studying at the Academy and working his way up the ladder at the Department of Communications.

Although he often felt depressed, and he longed for a less restricted life, he had little reason to complain. The State had provided him with a lifestyle that was more comfortable than others in the city. He could not imagine never returning to his home, and to Cori. What would happen to her if he simply disappeared?

"I've met your father several times," Elena said, interrupting his thoughts. "He is, quite literally, a genius. He is passionate about his work, even though he despises the people he works for. He takes great pride in his accomplishments. If you were to ask him, his greatest accomplishment was ensuring his son lived a good life. You remind me of him in many ways, Jason. No matter what you decide, I have no doubt that you will find a way to succeed."

"I just don't know if I can do it," he said. "I don't know if I can walk away from everything I have, everything I've earned. But then I think of all the sacrifices my father made for me. I owe him."

"You don't owe anyone," she said. "But you have no idea what is really happening in this city, Jason. And you have no idea how important your father is to the Third Revolution."

"The Third Revolution?"

"That is what we call ourselves, yes. We believe it is time for the people to rise up and take back everything we have lost."

"What have we lost? I don't understand."

"In due time, I promise you, you will understand completely. But we're running out of time, and I need you to make a decision. I'm sorry, I know this is a big decision, and I know you don't even have all the information you need to make this decision. But time is of the essence."

Jason stared into her eyes from across the desk. He didn't even know this woman, and yet she was asking him to make a life-altering decision. He wasn't even sure that he could trust her. However, he could not deny the fact that the offer intrigued him immensely. It was an opportunity to break free from the ever-present fear of living under State rule. And it was an opportunity to repay a debt he didn't even know he held, to a man he didn't even know existed.

"I'm in," he said.



The Third Revolution Ch. 05



"This is Zack," Elena announced.

"Howdy-doo," Zack responded with a sarcastic smirk and an exaggerated bow. He grabbed Jason by the shoulders and directed him to a chair in the center of the room. He then lifted Jason's shirt and began attaching devices along his chest and abdomen.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jason protested. "What the hell are you doing?"

Zack sighed. "Elena, can you explain to this noob what I'm doing."

As he continued attaching devices to Jason's arms, neck, head, and lower body, Elena explained, "You do know that the State implants a microscopic chip inside of every citizen? You're aware of that?"

"Yes, of course," Jason responded. "The chip monitors my health, tracks my allowance, provides identification..."

"And tracks your location via GPS," Elena added. "As soon as you step outside of that door, those drones will find you."

"Okay," Jason said, shifting uncomfortably as Zack applied a device to his inner thigh, mere inches from his scrotum. "I still don't understand what he's doing."

"The State places the chip in a different location in every person, so we don't know exactly where it is," Elena explained. "We could find it, and remove it surgically, but it takes time that we don't have. So instead, it's far more efficient to reformat it. We erase it completely. Jason Adams will cease to exist."

Jason swallowed hard. "Then what?"

"Well, if one of those drones discovers someone walking around with no identification, it would trigger a suspicious event. So we upload a fake identity, complete with a fake information card, medical history, security level, and so on."

"Last chance to run away, sport," Zack said with a crooked grin.

"Just do it," Jason said. He braced himself as Zack tapped his tablet. After several minutes of tapping, Zack folded the tablet and began removing the devices from Jason's body.

"That's it?" Jason asked.

"That's it," Zack said. "What, did you expect to feel different with your new identity?"

From the corner of the room, Kat giggled. Jason turned to look at her, and she smiled at him, causing a strange sensation in his chest.

"What now?" Jason said, looking at Elena.

"Now, we get the fuck out of the city," she responded.

Kat pushed open the door into the darkened alleyway behind the repair shop and surveyed the area before moving ahead. Jason and Elena followed closely behind. Elena tapped on the device wrapped around her ear and spoke several directions.

"A limo will be waiting for us," she said. "About five blocks north."

"What about the drones?" Jason asked, searching the night sky. "Two of them were on us before we entered the building."

"Don't worry about them," Elena assured him. "The only crime you committed tonight was refusing interrogation and fleeing the scene. They won't be using facial recognition to find you just yet. You're safe with the security clearance we gave you."

Jason turned to Kat. "By the way, what did you do to those two drones back there?"

Kat smiled, and produced a small device from her pocket. "It's a D.E.W."

"A what?" Jason asked.

"Directed-energy weapon," Elena interrupted. "It emits an electro-magnetic pulse that temporarily disables electronics. It's also highly illegal." She turned to Kat. "Where did you get it?"

"The Third Revolution isn't the only rebel group in the city, you know," Kat responded. Elena glared at her. "Yes, I know who you are, Elena. Trust me, our group has been around longer than yours, and we share the same goals. We would work much better together."

"I don't know who you are," Elena said, "or why you are still tagging along with us. As for trusting you, that remains an open-ended question."

"Kat saved my life tonight," Jason asserted. "Or, at least, she saved me from another extended stay at the New Boston Inn."

"As for why I'm 'tagging along' with you," Kat continued, "my group has as much interest in securing the services of Dr. Locke as yours does. I would argue that we found him first."

Elena abruptly stopped, causing Kat to nearly collide with her. "Listen, bitch," she said. "Why don't you just take a walk? We don't need you. And we especially don't need you if you're going to interfere with our operation."

Kat's fists clenched, and your jaw flexed.

"Okay, just hold on a minute," Jason said, wedging himself between the two women. "Kat, you need to back off a little bit and let Elena take the lead. And Elena, I'm not going anywhere with you unless Kat comes with me."

"What?" Elena shouted a little too loudly. "You just met this woman! You don't know anything about her."

"I don't know anything about you, either," Jason countered. "The difference between you two is that you had me thrown in prison, and Kat saved me from prison. I have no reason to trust either one of you. Which is why I am spreading my risk among the two of you. It's called diversification."

Elena stared at him for a moment, and then broke into laughter. "So logical," she said. "So much like your father. Okay, fine. You win. She stays...but you keep her in line."

They entered the extended black vehicle waiting for them precisely where Elena said it would be. They were silent as they traveled along the bumpy back roads, through the eroding tunnel, and onto the highway. As they passed along the old bridge, Jason pressed his face to the window to peer at the geometric series of cables that seemed to pull at the two main spires from both directions.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"North," Elena said.

"To the wall?" he asked.

"Beyond the wall," she said.

Jason looked from one woman to the other. "I've never been beyond the wall."

"Yes, you have," Elena reminded him.

"Not that I remember," he noted. "How will we--?"

"Quiet," Elena said, motioning with her eyes to the cameras and microphones dotting the interior of the limo.

When they reached the border, an armed guard approached the vehicle and smacked the roof with his palm. All three of the passengers exited and formed a line for inspection while another guard scanned the interior of the limo.

One by one, the guard stood before each of them and looked into his device in the upper left-hand corner of his vision. He then looked into the face of each person before moving along. "You're free to go," the guard said.

Jason, Elena and Kat reentered the vehicle, and it proceeded through the gate and beyond the wall. The terrain beneath them instantly became more treacherous, and it took a moment for the vehicle's stabilizers to adjust. They were soon traveling at a great speed along the darkened highway.

"That was easy," Jason quietly noted, earning a glare from Elena.

They traveled for more than two hours without uttering a word between them. A sliver of the moon provided only an occasional glimpse of their surroundings. Through the windows, all that could be seen were darkened buildings, most of which were crumbling to their foundations, and an occasional small fire. Antique vehicles could be seen stranded along the side of the highway, stripped of their tires and metal, with weeds growing from the wheel wells.

After nearly three hours, their vehicle pulled off of an exit and came to an abrupt stop. Through the window, Jason could see a hint of mountains in the distance. When he stepped outside, the aroma of the cool night air filled his lungs. Once all three had exited, the vehicle departed, leaving them standing in darkness.

"So," Jason said, "is this it?"

Elena tapped the side of her device, and a small green light appeared along her left temple. "From here, we travel on foot. We will be there in less than an hour if you can keep up with me."

Jason chuckled, and he activated his device. The darkness surrounding him instantly transformed into a green-hued brightness in all directions.

"So, Kat, what's your story?" he said as he followed Elena along a dirt path winding up a hill through the forest.

"My story?" Kat said.

"You know...what did you study at the academy? What was your role with the State? How did you get involved with your rebel group?"

"You two will have plenty of time to share your life stories later," Elena barked.

Jason gave an exasperated sigh and pointed a thumb in Elena's direction. He made a face at Kat, and she responded with a giggle. Elena wheeled around, and they both adopted stony expressions.

"May I ask where you're taking us?" Jason said to Elena.

"It's a safe house," she responded. "One of many the Third Revolution has maintained, both inside and outside of the city."

They trudged through the forest and followed a dirt path along the edge of a large lake. The moonlight reflected off the water, creating a pattern of eerie shadows on Jason's display. He turned off the display, and soaked in the breathtaking natural scenery before him.

They came upon a small log cabin, and Elena used a key to open the door. They stepped inside the drafty room, and Elena lit a lantern, revealing a single room interior furnished with a bed, a table, and a kitchen counter with a wooden stove. Jason noted that the cabin was slightly larger than his apartment.

"This is where I leave you," Elena announced.

"What do you mean?" Jason responded, with a hint of panic in his voice. "Where are you going?"

"I have to meet with the others to report on our progress," Elena calmly explained, "and to plan our next steps. I will return in a few days."

"A few days?" Jason said, looking from Elena to Kat. "How will we survive out here?"

"You are safe here," Elena said. "The State rarely sends its drones this far out into the Outerlands."

"What I mean," Jason clarified, "is what will we eat and drink? How will we live out here?"

"That," Elena said with a smile, "is up to you. You are no longer a slave of the State, Jason. You live however you care to live. You make your own decisions, and reap whatever risk or reward that entails. There is some canned food in the pantry, and enough bottled water to get you through a day or two. Your success or failure is now up to you."

Jason looked at Kat, hoping she would intervene, but she merely smiled at him. For some reason, that simple expression eased his anxiety.

"I will see you again in a few days," Elena said. "A week, at most." She touched Jason on the shoulder. "You'll be fine," she said with a smile. With that, she departed, leaving Jason and Kat alone to fend for themselves.

After a restless night, Jason awoke with a gasp of panic. It took him a moment to recognize where he was. He searched for his device, and noted the time. It was nearly nine o'clock. He couldn't recall ever sleeping in that late. The thought suddenly occurred to him that he no longer had an obligation to report to a supervisor or administrator, and he no longer had a daily agenda to dictate his activities throughout the day. His newfound freedom was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He rose from the bed just as Kat walked through the front door, carrying a bucket. He stood, naked, beside the bed, with his morning erection rising toward the roof of the cabin.

"Well, good morning, sleepyhead," she said with a smile. She lowered her eyes for a moment, and then quickly looked away. Jason experienced an alien sensation within him, and felt the need to turn away or cover himself. He quickly dressed as Kat poured the contents of her bucket into a pot on the stove. She then opened the door of the stove, lit a match, and flames appeared within.

"I figured I'd get a jumpstart on the water situation," she explained, noting Jason's curious expression. "I collected some water from a stream. We have to boil it before we can drink it."

"How do you know this?" Jason asked, pulling his tunic over his head.

"This isn't my first time living outside of the walls," Kat said. "Out here, you either learn quickly or you starve. Or worse."

"Then I guess I'd better start learning," Jason said. For the first time, he noticed that Kat wore unusual clothing the likes of which he had never seen. Again, Kat anticipated his question by the expression on his face.

"I found these in a storage bin," she explained, pointing to a bin in the corner of the room. "They are much warmer than the State-issued clothing. You should take a look and see if anything fits you."

He rummaged through the bin and found a pair of pants, a shirt, and a thick, long-sleeved top made of strange material that felt soft and warm to the touch. He removed his tunic and wore both the shirt and the top. He began to remove his pants, but noticed Kat was looking at him, and turned his back to her.

That afternoon, they explored their surroundings. Kat found an old fishing pole leaning against the exterior wall of the cabin, and she showed Jason how to bait a hook. They sat on the edge of the lake, leaning against a pair of trees, taking turns dangling their fishing line into the water. They filled their senses with the majesty of the sunlight reflecting off the water, the smell of fresh mountain air, and the sounds of birds chirping and waves gently lapping against the shore.

"You never did tell me your story," Jason noted, after a lengthy period of silence.

"I really don't want to talk about it," Kat said.

"Well, we have to talk about something," he said.

"Tell me what your life was like, back in the city."

"Pretty typical and boring, I suppose. I worked for the State six days a week, writing copy for school books, speeches, public service announcements...pretty boring stuff. At the end of the day, I'd go home to my apartment, and Cori. She would have dinner waiting for me. Sometimes, I would go out, for no other reason than to get out of the apartment for a while."

"You were a regular customer at the arcade," she noted.

"Yes, I was," he said, giving her a strange look. "And so were you. Am I right?"

She nodded. "I saw you there a few times. You always sat at the bar, talking to Arlo."

"I will miss Arlo," he said with a sigh. "There aren't many things that I will miss about the city, but he's one of them. I miss Cori already."

Kat turned her head and watched as Jason absentmindedly tugged at the fishing pole, staring at the ripples on the water.

"Cori," she said. "Is she your companion?"

"Yes," he responded. "She has been with me since I graduated from the Academy."

"I assume she's a C.O.R.I. model?" she asked, hesitantly.

Jason's focus suddenly shifted, and he turned his head toward Kat. "Yes, she is."

"Interesting," she noted.

"What is interesting about that?"

"Well...it's just that it's an older model. I'm sure the State has offered you an upgrade at some point."

"I like Cori," he said, suddenly appearing defensive. In his mind's eye, he could envision that sweet expression molded beneath her latex skin. "I spent a lot of time teaching her to do things just the way I like."

"Do things...like give you sexual pleasure?"

"Y—yes, of course. Sometimes. I mean, it's just a biological function, like any other."

"How often?"

"Whenever I need it," he said, his face reddening. "Whenever my body feels the urge for a release. Whenever I become too tense and stressed."

Kat giggled. "You mean like now?"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said, snapping the line back into the water.



The Third Revolution Ch. 06



Over the next several days, Jason and Kat spent their days fishing and hunting, and gathering water and wood. Jason took great pride in learning these new skills, and felt a genuine feeling of accomplishment knowing that they were supporting themselves without the oversight and guidance of the State, or anyone else for that matter. He savored the taste of real food and fresh water, and he enjoyed having human companionship and open conversations without worrying about who was listening, or who would be offended and file charges against him.

One night, after a filling dinner of fresh fish and rice, Jason gazed at Kat as she sat at the table, playing a game with a stack of paper cards. He watched as she took another card off the top of the stack and placed it on the table. Her deep blue eyes sparkled in the light of the lantern. She bit her bottom lip as she studied the layout of cards on the table. He watched as her delicate fingers lifted another card from the stack.

He studied the soft contours of her face, her flawless, olive-toned skin, and the dimples that would appear when she shaped her mouth in a certain way. He noticed the gentle curve of her neck, and felt the sudden, primitive urge to taste it and inhale its scent. His gaze fell to her collarbone, and then to the top of her breasts. She wore a loose-fitting top that exposed her cleavage whenever she moved in a certain way. The flickering light of the lantern made it appear as though her skin were glowing.

He felt an odd sensation in his chest and belly. It was both painful and pleasurable at the same time. And he felt a warm and tingling sensation in his penis, which he curiously discovered was fully erect. The urge for a physical release was overwhelming and all-consuming.

"Everything okay?" Kat said, snapping him out of his trance. He felt his face flush as he realized he was still staring at her.

"I—yes, I'm fine," he said.

She smiled sweetly. "Are you sure you don't want to play?"

"No...I mean, yes. I'm sure. I...I don't think I'm feeling well."

"Are you ill?"

"I'm not sure. I feel...strange. My stomach feels like it's fluttering. And...well ...my penis..."

He looked down at the bulge in his pants, and then at Kat, appearing almost frightened. She gave him a quizzical look.

"Let me ask you a question, Jason," she said. "You said you weren't born in the city. You were born naturally?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Then, that means that your genetics weren't engineered by the State."

"That's true, although I didn't learn that until recently."

She rose from the table and sat in the chair next to him, looking him in the eyes. "Do you know why the State began their genetic engineering program?"

"Well...what I learned at the Academy is that, through advancements in human genome mapping, the State found a way to eradicate most deadly diseases by modifying our DNA structure. This ensures a healthy population."

"That's true," she said, "but there is more. The State also has an interest in controlling the population. If the needs of the population exceed the supply, then higher rationing would result, and protests and riots would ensue. And if the population is too low, there would not be enough productive workers for the State."

"Yes," he responded, "I learned that before State-enforced birth control, there was a great threat of overpopulation in the cities."

"That is the State's version of the truth, yes. The fact is that it was in the State's best interests to have complete control of both the size and composition of the population. So they encouraged women to choose careers with the State over motherhood. Those who chose motherhood were portrayed as selfish, and encouraged to allow the State to raise their children from the earliest age possible, in order for the mother to return to work.

"The State began to regulate the act of sex itself, and explained that it was for the good of the community. Sex was portrayed as an act of physical violence and male oppression over women, and affirmative-consent laws were passed to protect women from their oppressors. But the definition of 'consent' was too ambiguous. Inevitably, all sexual contact was prohibited unless sanctioned by the State."

"Sex is a primitive act," Jason said. "It is no longer necessary in the modern world."

"It's also human nature," Kat responded, "and no law can negate human nature. Humans are naturally sexual beings, with primal sexual desires. The desire to procreate is innate in all living things. The survival of the species depends on it."

Jason thought for a moment, weighing her words. "Then how did the State solve this problem?"

"Genome mapping," she stated. "The gene that controls sexual desire was identified and isolated. A simple mutation of that gene removed natural libido from the human equation. All citizens born within the city are now genetically engineered with that mutated gene."

"I've never read this before."

"That's because you have only read what the State has wanted you to read. Once that genetic alteration was made, there was no longer a need for laws forbidding sexual activity or gender discrimination. Gender identity itself became a relic of the past. Without sexual desire, gender becomes irrelevant."

"Okay...but that still doesn't explain why I have never felt this desire. I was not born with that mutated gene."

"That's why I asked about your birth. It struck me as curious. Before that gene was identified, the State developed a drug to suppress libido, which they were testing on citizens. It proved less cost-effective than genetic alteration, but it was successful in controlling libido. My theory is that you have been given this drug on a regular basis for most of your life."

He wrestled with this theory for a moment before his expression illuminated. "My morning health drink. I haven't had it since we left the city. That explains..."

"Yes," she said with a smile. "My guess is that the effects of that drug wear off after a few days. These symptoms you're experiencing aren't an illness. It's sexual desire."

Her eyes drifted to his lap, and he reflexively covered himself.

"It's okay," she said with a smile. "What you're feeling is natural. A real, genuine, unaltered, human reaction and emotion. You should embrace it. It is real humanity!"

"It...it's embarrassing. I don't know why, but I feel ashamed."

"You shouldn't be. Not at all." She bit her bottom lip, and the dimples on her cheeks made a sudden appearance. "You know, I wouldn't mind if you needed me to take care of that urge for you."

His eyes widened, and his lips parted. "No, you...you don't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to," she said, "but I hate to see you suffer unnecessarily. It's nothing more than a physical act. I'd be happy to do it."

With that, she lowered herself to her knees and crawled over to his chair. She looked into his eyes as she reached for the zipper on his pants. She maintained eye contact as she tugged it down, looking for any sign of protest. She reached inside his zipper and freed his growing member.

She held it in her hand for a moment and squeezed, watching the shiny head grow even larger. She stroked her hand downward, and placed the head in her mouth. He groaned with pleasure and tilted his head back, running his fingers through her short, soft hair. She teased him, flicking her tongue along the underside of his shaft, before taking him into her mouth further, sliding her lips up and down at a slow and steady pace.

"Is this how you like it?" she asked, looking up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes.

It felt so different than he was used to. Kat's mouth was so soft and warm, and her actions were so unpredictable that it heightened his pleasure to a level he didn't know was possible. He simply nodded in response to her question, unable to speak. She smiled and continued her tantalizing technique. He began to feel that familiar warm and tingling sensation in his groin. Then suddenly, she stopped.

"Wh—why did you stop?" he whispered.

"Jason, I have to tell you something," she said, stroking him slowly with her fingers. "I was not born with the libido-suppressant gene, either. I was born for a specific purpose, and the State designed my genetics for that purpose. Because of that, I have desires just like you."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice cracking.

She stood and removed her pants, and then shimmied out of her panties as well. She took him by the hand and pulled him over to the bed. She lay on her back and pulled him on top of her, pressing her lips against his. He felt a rush of adrenaline, and pressed his lips into hers, sucking her bottom lip.

She reached down and grabbed his hard cock. He felt a warm wetness as she stroked his cock head along her vulva. She guided him to her opening, and he pushed forward, experiencing a sensation of exquisite pleasure unlike any he ever imagined. He began thrusting himself in and out of her. She spread her legs wider, and clawed at his back, moaning with ecstasy.

The sensation was overwhelming. His muscles tensed, and he thrust one final time and held himself there as he unleashed a torrent inside of her. He emitted a loud groan, and he held her tightly while she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him toward her. He remained in a frozen state of rapture for several moments before he collapsed on top of her, burying his head in her shoulder.

"That," he said, once he was able to catch his breath, "was different."

She smiled and kissed him softly. A look of panic suddenly came across his face.

"Did we just make a baby?" he asked.

She laughed. "No, don't worry," she said. "I had an injection less than a month ago."

He sighed in relief, and rolled off of her. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. "Thank you," he said.

"You don't have to thank me," she said with a giggle.

"Did you enjoy it as much as I did?" he asked.

"I don't think that's possible," she said with another laugh. "But I enjoyed it, yes. We'll have to work on lasting a little longer next time."

"Next time?" he asked, eliciting a giggle from her. 

They lay in silence, wrapped in a warm embrace.

"What did you mean when you said you were born with a specific purpose?"

There was a long pause before she responded. "I was a companion for a senator. I served him for many years before I was able to escape."

"A companion? I didn't know there were human companions."

"There are many things you don't know about the State, Jason."

"But what does that mean? How did you serve him?"

"I served him just as Cori served you. Only he was ruthless. He took great pleasure in torturing me. I was one of many companions in his employ. I lost count of how many others there were, and how many we lost. Many of them committed suicide. He specifically wanted companions whose libidos were not genetically suppressed. I think he got off on the sick idea that we enjoyed what he did to us."

He hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry, Kat. I didn't mean to provoke any bad memories. What we just did, I can imagine it must conjure up some of those memories."

"No, I learned long ago to consider sex as nothing more than a purely physical act," she explained. "I learned to close my eyes and extract the pleasure from the act without allowing emotions to interfere. It was the only way I was able to endure that time in my life."

***

Jason awoke the following morning still holding Kat in his arms. Her warm, naked flesh fit perfectly into the contours of his body. He ran his hand along her smooth, warm skin, from her shoulders, down her back, plunging down the curve of her lower back and up along her hip, and then down again along her thigh. He kissed the back of her neck and pressed his fully-engorged cock against her buttocks. She responded with a soft moan.

"Again?" she whispered. He continued to stroke his hand along the length of her body, cupping his hand on her ass and squeezing gently.

She rose to her hands and knees beside him. "Get behind me," she said, pulling him in that direction. She reached beneath her and guided him inside her warm, wet cunt. He slid easily inside her, and squeezed her firm, round ass. He watched with fascination as his glistening cock slid in and out of her.

"Harder," she ordered. He thrust himself inside her faster and more forcefully, afraid at first that he would injure her. She moaned loudly, prompting him to increase his pace even further. The serene quiet of the morning was replaced by the sound of slapping flesh and animalistic grunts and moans.

"Don't stop!" she screamed. He could feel his pleasure swelling beyond his control, but he continued to thrust harder and faster. She moaned loudly, and he followed closely behind. He gave a few more thrusts before collapsing beside her, exhausted and glistening with sweat. He opened his eyes and turned to her. And that is when he noticed Elena standing in the doorway.

"Well," Elena said with a wry grin, "that was interesting."



The Third Revolution Ch. 07



"There will be two teams," Elena said, her words echoing off the walls of an abandoned warehouse as a group of twelve men and women listened intently. A large holographic display appeared behind her as she spoke, and she pointed to various areas of interest on a map.

"Team Alpha will create a distraction here, at the hair salon. That should draw most of the drones in the area to that spot. Team Beta, you will disable the cameras in the apartment complex located here. Team Charlie will then make their way through the building to the fifty-third floor. Our target is staying in room number 5316.

"You should all know your assignments. I don't need to stress how important this mission is. You have all been training for this day for a very long time. Are there any questions?"

She scanned the faces of each and every person before her. "Good," she said. "Then let's roll."

A line formed along one end of the building, and one by one, each person was handed a flexible, transparent band with a circular shape. Following the lead of the others, Jason took his band, stretched it a bit, and placed it around his forehead. He looked at Kat, who did the same. Instantly, her facial features morphed into an unrecognizable figure. She gave him a curious look.

"I like your old look better," he said with a smile.

"You're just trying to get in my pants again," she retorted.

"Are you two done flirting?" an unfamiliar-looking woman responded in Elena's voice. "We have work to do."

The ride into the city seemed longer than Jason had remembered, but it was equally as quiet. Alongside him sat Kat, Elena and a man he had just met named Kyle. He was told Kyle was an expert in hand-to-hand combat, and was included in their group in the event that they would encounter resistance from State patrolmen.

They arrived at the gate, and were allowed into the city without incident. The limo stopped in front of the apartment complex, and all four passengers exited onto the street. Jason looked up at the corner of the building and noticed a camera pointed in his direction.

"Relax," Elena whispered. No facial recognition software known to the group had ever managed to break the decryption embedded in the holographic masks they wore.

Jason recoiled at the sound of a loud explosion from several blocks down the street. He turned to see a plume of fire and smoke erupt from the side of one of the buildings.

"Right on schedule," Elena said. "Team Beta, you're up."

Jason watched the camera on the outside of the building. When its red light went out, all four members of the team went into the building and rode the elevator to the fifty-third floor. They strolled down the hallway to room 5316, and Elena inserted a card through the slot on the door. A buzzing sound followed, and all four entered the room.

Elena motioned to Kyle, and he went into the next room while the three of them stood in darkness. Elena taped a button on the wall, and the lights in the room slowly brightened. Moments later, Kyle re-entered the room accompanied by an older man who appeared confused and alarmed. Elena deactivated her holographic mask, and the man's eyes flickered with recognition.

"Elena," he said.

"Doctor Nathan Locke," she said, "I want you to meet someone."

She looked at Jason, and pantomimed a motion for him to deactivate his mask. When he did so, the old man's eyes glistened. He placed a hand to his mouth to suppress any noise, and then raced across the room to embrace his son.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he said. Overcome with emotion, Jason remained silent, and simply returned the hug of this man he had never known.

"I'm sorry," Elena said, looking toward Nathan, "but I need to format your chip, and then we have to go. We don't have much time."

Nathan patted his son on the back, and gave him a long look before turning to Elena. She fitted him with electrodes and followed the directions Zack had given her. Within seconds, the task was complete.

"You'll need one of these," Elena said, handing him a circular strand.

The taxi was waiting for them when they exited the building. Down the street, bright lights could be seen scanning the buildings and skies. The five of them hustled out of the building and into the cab without anyone noticing. Seconds later, they were speeding down the back roads and onto the highway. When they reached the city walls, the guards looked over each of them and stepped aside, allowing them to leave the city.

"That was easy," Nathan said, earning a glare from Elena.

They rode north for over an hour before the vehicle came to a stop. There, they found motorized three-wheeled vehicles awaiting them. With Elena riding point, they traversed along back roads and dirt paths to a small house deep in the woods. Elena went to the back door and stood for a moment until an electronic beep indicated it was safe to enter.

Inside was a darkened garage with a large object in the center of the floor. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Jason recognized that it was an antique vehicle. His eyes dazzled with the way the moonlight reflected off its shiny surface. He ran his hand along the rear bumper, and traced his fingers along the raised lettering of a word: "Impala."

"Not many of those around anymore," Nathan remarked.

"I've never seen one before," Jason said. "Not in person, anyway. Only in images and video."

They continued through another door, which opened into a kitchen area. It appeared as though the house was well-maintained. It was clean, and stocked with cans of food and bottles of water. Kyle unlocked one of the cabinets and produced what appeared to be a long-barreled weapon. He took a position at the front window and searched the darkness.

"Now what?" Nathan asked.

"Now we wait," Elena responded.

"Wait for what?" Jason asked.

"John Reardon," said Elena.

Kat appeared surprised. "Reardon is coming here?"

Elena nodded. "He'll be here within the hour."

"This place have a bathroom?" Kat asked. "It's been a while since I've seen a real toilet."

Elena led Kat down a hallway, leaving Jason and Nathan standing in the kitchen, alone. Nathan smiled at his son, and couldn't seem to look away from him.

"I'm sorry for staring," he said. "I have been watching you your whole life. I never thought I would ever be standing in the same room with you."

"What do you mean you've been watching me?" Jason asked.

"My agreement with the State was that you would be safe and well-provided," Nathan explained. "They allowed me to tap into the various video feeds around the city to check in on you from time to time. I've been doing so since they placed you in the State daycare facility. I watched you attend the Academy. And I've watched you climb up the ladder with the Department of Communications. I'm very proud to see the man you've become."

Jason stood for a moment and simply looked at his father. He recognized many of his own features in his face, his voice, and even the way he carried himself. Never for a moment had he ever considered the possibility of meeting his birth father. He had always been a ward of the State, just like everyone else he knew.

"I have so many questions," Jason said.

"Then let's see if I can answer them," his father responded, ushering him into the next room. He closed the door, and motioned for Jason to take a seat in one of the chairs. Nathan rummaged through the cabinets and drawers in the room and found a couple of glasses, and a jar with caramel-colored liquid. He poured a glass for each of them.

"What is this?" Jason asked, taking the glass.

"I believe it's rum," Nathan answered. He took a swig and nodded. "Flavored rum of some sort."

"I don't suppose there is any soda in the house?" Jason asked.

Nathan laughed. "I really don't know. Maybe."

They sat for a moment in silence, simply enjoying their drinks, and each other's company.

"I understand you are a history buff," Nathan said.

"Yes, I studied history at the Academy, and received top grades," Jason said. "I have always had a fascination of history, and all things from the past."

Nathan leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on a stool. "I'd be curious to hear your opinion of the United States."

"United States?" Jason responded. "You mean this country's history between the First and Second Revolutions?"

"Yes," his father said, "exactly."

"Well," Jason said, downing a substantial swig of rum, "from what I understand, that period in our history was a dark time, dominated by a greedy and unsympathetic class of elite. It was an every-man-for-himself society where a handful of people became grossly wealthy through exploitation of the working poor."

"It sounds horrible," Nathan remarked.

"I imagine it was," Jason said. "Thankfully, changes were gradually introduced. The people demanded their government take more control, and redistribute wealth in a more equitable way. After a major economic crisis in the 1920's, the federal government awarded itself greater power and control through taxation, regulation, and monetary policy. Gradually, the government gained more and more responsibility for ensuring the health and well-being of the people. They cared for the sick, educated the children, and managed the retirements of the elderly. They took provided food, shelter and income to the poor and disabled. For more than a century, progress was made, little by little, toward a more equal and fair society."

"And then came the Sino-Russian War," Nathan noted.

"Yes, there was another great global economic collapse, and the United States currency became worthless overnight. People lost their life savings. The job market collapsed. Tens of millions suddenly became unemployed, with no means of caring for themselves. When the Chinese government realized that their investment in United States currency and assets had become worthless, they insisted we compensate them with our land and resources. When we refused, they retaliated militarily."

"I was barely a teenager then," the father stated. "Too young to be drafted into the military, but old enough to understand what was happening. Our missile defense system protected us from most of the incoming warheads, but the ones that made it through were devastating. Millions were killed in the blink of an eye. We fought back. Then Russia and the Islamic Republic got involved. By the time it all ended, the death toll and devastation was greater than anyone could have ever imagined."

"And that is when the Second Revolution began," Jason continued. "When that war ended, a new leadership arose, which promised stability and prosperity. The people happily adopted this new government to protect us from harm, both within and outside of our borders. The banks and corporations that caused the economic collapse were taken over by the State. The old Constitution was destroyed, and a new one was written, which ensured a fair society where all citizens prosper equally, and where discrimination, offending language, and any display of unequal power are strictly forbidden."

"And the citizens of the new People's State of America lived happily ever after," Nathan said, downing the last of his glass. He sat for a moment, a look of amusement creeping over his face. He shook his head slowly and deliberately.

"Is there something I missed?" Jason asked.

"Let me suggest an alternative history," the father said. "The United States began as a unique experiment, in that the people were given the unprecedented power to govern themselves. This radical idea had existed only within the realm of theory and philosophy, and had never been attempted in such a large-scale manner. Although many felt this experiment would fail miserably, the idea of self-governance and self-determination appealed to so many, people came from all over the world just for the chance to experience it."

"That may be true," Jason said, "but the country was plagued with greed, slavery, and oppression. You're painting an inaccurate picture."

Nathan waved his hand and took another sip of his drink. "Of course, there was greed, slavery and oppression in the United States. There has been greed, slavery and oppression everywhere in the world, throughout human history. The United States was no exception. What set this country apart from all the others was freedom and opportunity. That led to innovation and prosperity unlike anything the world had ever witnessed. Nearly every great invention, every new medicine, and every technological improvement of the nineteenth, twentieth and twenty-first centuries originated from the United States. There is a reason for that."

"If the country was so prosperous," Jason interrupted, "then why were there so many people living in misery, despair, and poverty?"

"Were there?" Nathan asked with a smile. "The poorest of the poor in the United States managed to enjoy a far better lifestyle than even the mildly wealthy in some other parts of the world. It's all relative, isn't it? There will always be some men who have less than others. When you give a man a choice, sometimes he makes the wrong choice. When a man takes a risk, sometimes it results in a great reward, and other times it doesn't. That is the nature of free will. There will always be winners and losers when men are free to make their own decisions in life."

"There doesn't have to be," Jason noted. "You can create a system that ensures fairness for everyone."

"What does 'fairness' mean?" the father responded. "Is it fair that you are a more talented writer than I am? Is it fair that I am more knowledgeable of technology than you are? Is it fair that Kyle over there in the next room could kill us both with his bare hands if he chose? Is it fair that Kat is so beautiful?"

Jason gave his father a strange look.

"What? You think I didn't notice?" They exchanged a knowing grin. "You see, if 'fairness' means equality, then life is inherently unfair because we're all born with unequal skills and assets. The best we can do is to ensure fairness of opportunity. Fairness of outcome is impossible...unless some third party demands parity through brute force."

"I understand what you're saying," Jason responded. "And I understand that the State can be cruel at times to enforce its laws. But you cannot deny the fact that they have delivered on their promise for a fair and equal society."

"Oh, really?" the father said, raising an eyebrow. He produced an information device from his pocket and placed it on the table. An image appeared, showing what seemed to be an aerial view of the city. "Yes, that's a live view," Nathan said, noting the curious look on his son's face. "It is remarkably easy to hack into their drones."

He appeared to steer the drone by motioning with his fingers and hands before him. The drone flew north of the city, past the walls, toward what appeared to be another large, walled city. It scaled the wall and hovered overhead, revealing wretched streets filled with garbage, miserable-looking people scuffling along the roads, wearing torn clothing and looking pale and thin. He lowered the drone to street level and hovered it next to a man staring straight ahead with unfocused eyes, set so deeply into his skull, he looked like a living skeleton.

"This is New Lowell," Nathan explained. "It is a labor camp where textiles are made for the State. There are others just like it, where food and other necessities are manufactured. These camps provide such a desolate existence that the State ships in hundreds of workers every week just to replace the ones who died of starvation, murder, drug overdose, and suicide. There are thousands of labor camps just like this one, scattered throughout the outskirts of each and every existing city in the People's State."

Jason sat on the edge of his chair, peering into the display, in complete disbelief of what he was seeing. "How?" he said. "How can this be?"

"There are also birthing camps," the father continued. "The State collects the genetic material from its donors in the city, makes whatever genetic alterations they desire from their population, and implants their manufactured embryos in women who were selected for these camps. The conditions are subhuman, and the pain and suffering those women endure is something you cannot imagine. But if they birth enough healthy babies, they are rewarded by the State with suitable living arrangements within the city – or so they are told."

Jason's mind reeled. How could he be so oblivious to so much suffering? How did the State collect genetic material from city donors? He himself had never been asked to donate. A chill crept up his spine as he thought of the whirring noise he would hear in the kitchen nook whenever Cori would finish pleasuring him. How many children attending the Academy at that moment carried his genetic material?

"There are also retirement camps," Nathan continued, "where older citizens are sent once they are no longer useful to the State. The conditions of those camps are so unfathomable that the average citizen dies at the age of sixty eight – only three years after they arrive."

Jason immediately thought of Marshall, and the look of fear and despair in his eyes.

"These are the have-not's in the State's system of 'fairness and equality', Jason," his father continued. "I don't believe I need to tell you who the 'haves' are."

"The senators," Jason responded coldly.

"The senators, and the rest of the bureaucrats and administrators in the State, yes," Nathan said. "You see, Jason, this idea that society can benefit from equal contributions and an equal distribution of resources has always been a false premise, for the simple reason that human beings are not equal in every way. We each possess different talents, different motivations, different work ethics, and different ambitions.

"When you attempt to impose a system of fairness on people who are born with unique traits and capabilities, there will still be winners and losers, as some will contribute more than others. What happens when a citizen of the State fails to contribute at any acceptable level? He or she is either punished or discarded; imprisoned or executed, just like those innocent children at the Academy who failed to perform at an acceptable level. The difference between living under collectivism and a free society is who decides how a person will live his life: the State or the individual.

"This is why I'm here, Jason. This is what we need to show the world. I built the State's communications infrastructure. I know how to hack into that system, because I ensured there would be a back door to do so. We need to show the people of this city what is really happening out there beyond those walls. I have waited a long time for this moment, son. And I would not have done it without you standing right here next to me."

"He's here," Elena announced, sticking her head through the door.



The Third Revolution Ch. 08



Jason and Nathan joined the others in the main room of the house. A tall man stood in the center of the room and looked at Nathan, offering his extended hand.

"It's an honor to finally meet you," Nathan said, shaking his hand.

"The honor is all mine," the man said. He then turned to Jason. "You must be Jason. I'm John Reardon."

"Nice to meet you," Jason said, shaking his hand. The old custom was becoming more familiar to him.

"Let's take a seat," Reardon said, and the others followed his lead.

They discussed their plan of attack. A team of hackers would use the back door provided by Nathan to access the main communications satellite of the State. A video message from Reardon had been composed, in which he revealed the true nature of the State.

"This is Phase One of our operation," Reardon explained. "Informing the people will help us to gain their support when the Third Revolution begins. The next step is holding the people in power accountable for their actions. One by one, we will take down this State from the inside out."

Heads nodded in cadence with his words. Reardon rose to his feet, and the others interpreted that as a sign that the meeting was adjourned. Kat pulled Jason aside, and led him into the back room. She closed the door and kissed him. He looked in her eyes, and was puzzled by her expression. Was it anxiousness? Excitement? Fear?

"Kat, what's wrong?" he asked.

Just then, a loud explosion erupted from the front room of the house, causing the floor to tremble beneath their feet. Flinging open the door, it seemed as though time slowed to a crawl as Jason surveyed the unimaginable scene before him. The windows at the front of the house shattered under a barrage of heavy fire, and Jason splayed onto the floor. He felt a trickle of wetness on his forehead, and when he wiped it away, his hand was covered in dark red blood.

His ears ringing, he crawled along his belly toward the nearest wall, and that is when he saw the body lying on the floor near the front door.

"Get down!" Kyle screamed. He was firing his weapon haphazardly through the shattered window. The noise was deafening.

Jason remained frozen, staring at the body, unable to come to terms with what his eyes were telling him. Lying just inches away from him, with his eyes staring straight ahead in a deathly stare, his forehead ripped open, and surrounded by a pool of blood, was his father.

"Jason!" Elena shouted. She pulled him toward a doorway as bullets continued to shred through the front windows and siding of the house. Behind her, Kat sat, shivering in fear, pressed against the wall.

"What do we do?" Jason shouted over the sound of heavy gunfire. Elena simply looked at him with an expression of hopelessness. "Where is Reardon?" he shouted.

Elena motioned toward the opposite end of the house, where Reardon had overturned a table. Shards of wood erupted all around him as bullets tore into the table. Jason looked at Reardon, and then glanced past him at the door leading to the garage.

"Elena, Kat, follow me," he said. "Kyle, cover us!" He crawled across the floor toward Reardon, and Elena and Kat followed as Kyle blindly fired into the darkness. When they reached the other side of the room, Jason rose to his feet and peeked around the corner.

"Kyle, let's go!" he shouted.

Kyle continued firing toward the flashes of light from all directions. "I'm staying!" he shouted. "You go!"

Jason hesitated for a moment, and pushed Elena and Kat through the door to the garage. He looked at Reardon.

"Do you think it'll start?" he asked, motioning toward the car.

Reardon looked at the car, and then to Jason. "You know how to operate this thing?"

"No," Jason responded, "but it can't be that much different than the video games."

"Let's just go!" Elena shouted, pushing Kat into the back seat with her. "It's not like we have a better option!"

Jason slid into the driver's seat as Reardon rode shotgun. "Hold on!" Jason shouted. He braced himself and pressed the gas pedal with his foot. Nothing happened. He frantically searched the dashboard, looking for a button or switch.

"Try the key!" Reardon said, pointing at a key in the ignition next to the steering wheel.

Jason twisted the key, and the engine ignited. His eyes widened, and he turned to Reardon and grinned. "I guess someone has been keeping this thing in working condition," he said.

"Yeah, well, you can thank them later," Reardon remarked. "Make this thing move!"

Jason gripped the steering wheel tightly and stomped on the gas pedal. The engine emitted a deafening roar, but the vehicle remained still. Once again, he searched the dashboard for an indicator of some kind. Outside, bullets continued to relentlessly pummel the side of the house.

He spotted a lever in the middle of the console beside him, and instantly recalled seeing something similar in one of the arcade games he had played. Reardon noticed him reaching for the stick.

"'R' for 'Run'?" he asked.

Jason looked at him with bemusement. "You're not a gamer, are you?"

He shifted into drive and pressed his foot to the floor. The engine roared and the car lurched forward and sped toward the garage door. With a thunderous crash, the vehicle smashed through the door and sped into the darkness. Jason turned the wheel sharply, and the car responded, sending them away from the gunfire that now peppered the rear of the car, shattering the back window.

The tires squealed as the car careened around a sharp corner, barely managing to avoid running off the road. Jason pushed the pedal to the floor as they reached a straightaway, and they sped uphill along the bumpy road, their path lit only by moonlight. Jason fumbled in his pocket and came to the sickening realization that he had left his device back at the house.

"I can hardly see a thing!" he said. "Can someone find the switch to activate the night vision?"

All three passengers craned their necks toward the darkened dashboard and the console between the two front seats.

"Try that lever on the left of the wheel," Elena offered. Jason pushed the lever, and a light blinked on the left side of the dashboard.

"What the fuck did that do?" he said. He pulled the lever on the other side of the wheel, and a pair of rubber blades began swishing back and forth across the windshield

"Here," Reardon yelled, handing him his device. Jason placed it behind his ear and activated the night vision feature, bringing the road ahead into clear focus just as the vehicle reached a sharp corner. Jason yanked the wheel hard to the right, and all three of the passengers slid in their seats.

"We're good!" he shouted, straightening the wheel.

"Don't celebrate yet," Elena said. "We've got company."

In a mirror just above his head, Jason saw two dark shadows approaching rapidly. He put more pressure on the gas pedal, and the car responded with a roar, surging up the hill. At the top of the hill was another straightaway, flanked by empty fields on both sides.

"They're gaining!" Elena shouted from the back seat.

"You can't outrun them with this old technology," Reardon noted, speaking in a calming tone.

Jason glanced in the mirror. The shadows of the two State vehicles had become better defined. He could see both vehicles filled with armed officers prepared to haul all four of them into a State prison, where they would likely remain until their transfers to a labor camp. Or perhaps the four of them would simply be killed in cold blood, and left for dead on the side of the road.

Jason activated his GPS. For the next two and a half miles, there was nowhere to go except straight ahead. The lead vehicle in the rearview mirror had gained enough ground that its front bumper was no longer visible. He checked his GPS once more, and inspiration suddenly came to him.

"Hold on to something!" he shouted. He turned the wheel hard to the left, veering into the open field adjacent to the road. The car bounded off the road and landed in the field with a hard thud, sending all four occupants bouncing off their seats and landing hard on impact. The wheel flew out of Jason's hands, and he lost control for a moment as the car nearly toppled over onto its side.

Jason overcorrected, steering hard to his right, and the vehicle nearly flipped over in the opposite direction. All the while, he kept his foot pressed hard against the gas pedal, with his white knuckles gripping the wheel.

He glanced in the mirror, and both vehicles had stopped along the side of the road, their shadows growing darker and less defined. His plan worked. The navigation systems on the State vehicles prohibited them from deviating from the road.

The car sailed over a hidden hill, and for a moment, all four wheels left the ground. All four of their heads hit the roof of the car when the vehicle landed, momentarily stunning the driver as he overcorrected once more.

He yanked the wheel to the right, and the car skidded sideways down an embankment. Jason turned the wheel to the left, and the vehicle flipped over onto its roof, ripping the wheel from his grip and slamming all four passengers against the underside of the roof. Kat shrieked as the car skidded along the embankment, upside down, before coming to an abrupt halt against a stone wall.

"Is everyone okay?" Reardon asked.

"I'm bloody and sore," Jason said, "but I'm okay." He turned to look at Kat.

"I'm okay," she said, her eyes swollen and red.

"Bloody and sore here, too," Elena said, "but alive."

"We need to get out of here," Reardon said, "quickly. They're more than likely heading toward us right now on foot."

The four of them scrambled from the upside-down wreckage and into the darkness of the night. Jason reached into his right pocket, and hung his head in disbelief.

"I found my device," he said.

With Reardon leading the way, they moved as quickly as they could through the field, to the edge of a forest. After more than an hour on foot, they came across a neighborhood. Reardon led them through the back yard of the first house they encountered, and they scaled a fence and entered a house on the other side.

"Another safe house?" Jason asked.

"Nope," Reardon said. "Just a house. Hopefully, we're the only ones here, or this will be a really short stay."

"You mean there may be others in the area?"

"There are small pockets of people who roam from one place to another," Reardon explained. "They are constantly on the move, surviving in whatever way they can, hiding from the State for as long as they can. Most of them are found eventually, and brought to the labor camps. Then there are the permanent camps, like my home base. That's our next stop. For now, we rest."

Jason nodded, and slumped onto the floor with his back against a wall. He assessed the damage both to himself and the others. Each of them appeared bloody, bruised, and covered with dirt and plaster. He ran his fingers along the side of his head, and found it caked with dried blood. A bullet must have grazed him, he thought. He had likely avoided instant death by mere inches. His thoughts immediately turned to his father, who hadn't been as lucky.

"Jason, I'm sorry about your father," Elena said, as if reading his thoughts.

"I just met the man," Jason said, "and yet it feels like I lost a dear old friend."

"We all lost today," she noted. Without his father, it seemed that all the planning by the Third Revolution had been for nothing. All of the events that had led to that moment, from his imprisonment, to his escape, to the rescue of his father, had been pointless.

"It's all my fault." The soft voice, barely audible, broke Jason's train of thought, and he turned to find Kat slumped against the wall beside him. Her eyes were glistening and swollen, and she stared straight ahead, motionless except for her quivering lips.

"What did you say?" Jason asked.

"It's my fault," she repeated. "All of it."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. He made a move to put his arm around her, but she recoiled and stood to her feet.

"I tipped them off," she said, her voice growing louder. "I contacted the State and let them know where we were. I activated my GPS while we were at the safe house, and I led them straight to us."

Jason stared at her in disbelief. Reardon slowly stood, watching Kat's every move, while Elena did the same.

"Kat," Jason said, "what are you talking about? Why would you do something like that?"

"I told you I worked as a companion for a senator," she said, making eye contact with Jason. "That was true, and it was as horrifying as I told you it was. But I escaped. I lived for nearly a year, out here beyond the walls, fending for myself. One day, the State did a sweep of the area where I was living. I didn't even see them coming. They took me back inside the walls and locked me in a prison."

"You...didn't tell me any of this," Jason said.

"After more than a month of solitary confinement, I nearly went insane," she continued. "Finally, I was given an offer. I could be shipped to one of the birthing camps, where I would be forced to become a birth mother again and again, for as long as my body could withstand it, or I could work for the State. They gave me one assignment, and if I completed it, I would be assigned a ration level ten, and a spacious living quarter within the city."

"You bitch!" Elena shouted. She made a move toward Kat, but was restrained by Reardon.

"What was that assignment?" Jason asked.

"Capturing me," Reardon interrupted.

Kat nodded. "The State knew that Elena had ties to the Third Revolution. They knew that she had reached out to you, Jason. And they knew about your ties to your father, and the plans to rescue him from State custody. They released you from prison, knowing that Elena would reach out to you again and eventually lead you to Reardon."

"That's why it was so easy for us to escape the city," Jason muttered.

"I knew it!" Elena shouted. "I told you right from the beginning we couldn't trust this cunt!"

"They promised me that no one would be harmed!" Kat shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I had their assurance that Jason and his father would be safely returned to the city, and that Reardon would be taken into custody. That was part of the bargain!"

"Yeah, and how did that work out for us?" Elena spat. "Those bullets flying through that house weren't exactly discriminating, were they? How stupid can you be?"

"I...I just wanted to be left alone," Kat sobbed. "I wanted to feel safe and secure for the first time in my life. The State offered me security."

"They offered you imprisonment," Reardon said. "Just because you are supplied with food and shelter doesn't mean you are free. A caged animal isn't free, no matter how well it is cared for."

"I...I know that now," Kat said softly.

"Yeah, well, great," Elena said, turning her back and slumping onto the floor once more. "Because of you, everything we have worked for is gone. Everything we have sacrificed was pissed away for nothing."

"I...I'm so sorry," Kat whimpered. She broke free from Jason's grasp and fled into an adjoining room.

Jason returned to his spot on the floor and lay on his side, resting his head against the cold, hard wood floor. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, and the soft sobs coming from the next room. He exhaled slowly, and could feel the tension drain from his weary body. That night, he dreamed of living on a tropical island with his mother and father.



The Third Revolution Ch. 09



They departed at sunrise, and didn't arrive at Reardon's camp until dark. The enormity of the camp was far more impressive than Jason had envisioned, and the camp's amenities were equally impressive. They had running water, electricity, and an ample amount of food. There must have been more than three hundred people living in that camp, Jason figured, including men, women, and even children.

"How on earth has this camp survived without harassment from the State?" Jason asked in bewilderment.

"When the Second Revolution began," Reardon explained, "many of our most intelligent and most successful people fled the country. That is why the State built those walls. Your mother and father were smart enough to flee the country before restrictions were imposed. Others, like the people in this camp, went into hiding outside of the city. We have some of the best technological minds in the world living here: former military intelligence, hackers, information specialists, and former spies. The State has the firepower; we have the brains."

Jason was led to a small guest cottage, where he was able to wash off all of the blood, filth and dirt from the day before. He spent the day touring the various facilities of the camp, and meeting with one impressive person after another. What struck him most was the positive energy of the people at the camp, and their pride in the work they were doing. They were unlike any other people he had ever encountered.

It took a great deal of campaigning on his part, but in the end, he was able to convince Reardon and Elena to allow Kat to join them on their journey to the camp. Despite her betrayal, Jason couldn't help but feel a connection to her, and believed she deserved a second chance. Aside from a quiet "thank you," she didn't say a word throughout their long journey.

On their second night at the camp, Kat made her first appearance at dinner. She sat alone at a table and ate quietly while Jason, Elena and Reardon spoke with several members of the community.

"Penetrating the State's communications network is impossible without Nathan Locke," said an abnormally tall and beefy man the others called "Dozer."

"Why is it so important to hack into that network?" Jason asked. "I don't understand."

"Knowledge is power," Reardon explained. "The people living in that city are ignorant of everything that is happening outside of those walls. If we show them the truth, they will join our revolution, and the State will crumble from within."

"I think you overestimate the citizens," Jason said. "Many of them are content to live under State rule. They have everything they need: food, clothing, shelter, employment, health and safety. They don't particularly care if their lives are controlled in every way, and that millions of people are suffering in order to enable their lifestyles."

"You're right," Reardon said. "Many of them would not change their opinions of the State even if they knew the ugly truth. But I am willing to bet that many of them would. Did you know that during the First Revolution, roughly two out of every ten citizens were loyal and sympathetic to the British crown? Less than half of the citizens considered themselves to be patriots. The rest...well, they just didn't care either way, and preferred to remain neutral."

"If even half of the citizens in New Boston are patriots, that would be more than enough to capture the city," Dozer added.

"Why can't you just hack into the communications network? I've seen you do it before. The message that appeared during our Pledge of Allegiance came from you, didn't it?"

Dozer nodded. "That was me. And that was as far as I've been able to get. Just a few seconds and a brief text message. Without your father's expertise, there is no way to hack into the system from the outside."

Jason contemplated for a moment. "What about from the inside?"

"What do you mean?" Reardon asked.

"In the Communications building, there is a control room on the top floor," Jason explained. "If we had access to that room—"

"We'd have access to the entire communications grid," Dozer said.

"Yeah, but how would we get into that room?" Reardon asked.

"I used to work for Senator Hobbes," Jason said. "Maybe I can still use my credentials to get into that building. We would just need some way to get to the top floor."

"Your credentials?" Reardon laughed. "Jason...I hate to break the news to you, but you don't have credentials anymore. You're a wanted man now. You set foot in that building, you're a dead man. Besides, you would never have the authorization to get into that control room."

"Hobbes would." The soft voice interrupted their conversation from across the room. They all turned to face Kat. "The senator has access to the control room, doesn't he?"

Jason paused for a moment. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"I used to live in companion quarters," Kat explained as she moved toward their table. "I heard stories about Senator Hobbes. He developed quite a reputation among the companions."

"So?" Elena said, rolling her eyes.

"I think I know a way to get to the senator," Kat continued. "If you can get me to the senator, I can convince him to take me to the control room."

"Yeah, right," Elena scoffed. "I'm sure he'll just waltz you right in there."

"He will," Kat responded. "I assure you."

"Kat, it's too dangerous," Jason said. "You don't want to go anywhere near that man, trust me."

"Dozer," Kat said, "if I can get to that control room, could you walk me through the steps needed for you to hack into the system?"

Dozer chuckled. "Yeah, sure, I suppose so."

"Then it's settled," Kat said.

Jason rose from the table, grabbed Kat by the arm, and pulled her aside. "You can't do this," he whispered.

"I need to do this," she said. "I owe you." She turned to face the group. "I owe all of you."

"Then I say we let her do it," Elena said. "I'm willing to risk her life is she is. I don't see any better option."

"Let's say this plan works," Jason said, "and Kat is able to get us into the communications network, and we broadcast Reardon's message to every citizen in the city. Then what?"

Reardon smiled. "Then we put Governor Davis on trial for crimes against humanity."

Jason burst into laughter. He looked around the room, as if looking for someone to join him. "I'm sorry, but you can't be serious."

"Dead serious," Reardon responded calmly.

"And how do we possibly do that?" Jason asked. "We're outnumbered and outgunned. Hell, I would bet there are more weaponized drones flying around the city sky right this minute than there are people in this entire camp. We'll never get anywhere near the governor."

"Kat," Elena said, standing to her feet, "hand me your EMP device."

Kat reached into her pocket and produced the small handheld device, handing it to Elena. Elena examined it for a moment, and then handed it off to Dozer.

"Wow," Dozier said with an amused grin. "That really brings me back. Where did you get this?"

"When I escaped from State custody, I joined a small group of people in the city," Kat said, turning to Elena. "One of the members of that group carried this device, and I convinced him to give it to me."

"Convinced him?" Elena said, raising an eyebrow. Kat shrugged her shoulders. "You slut."

"I did what I had to do to survive," Kat said. "I found a safe hiding spot for it, just in case I would need it. Then, I got caught in the State's net, and...well, you know the rest of the story."

"Unfortunately," Elena said with a smirk.

"Okay, hold on," Jason interrupted. "What does this device have to do with Reardon's plan to take down the State?"

"This," Dozer said, holding the device proudly in the palm of his hand, "was a very early prototype that I developed many years ago. It's an EMP – or, to be precise, an explosively pumped flux compression generator. It generates a microwave frequency and converts it into a high-energy pulse that can knock out any electronic device, temporarily, within a twenty-five yard radius."

"I know," Jason said. "I've seen it in action."

"I've made quite a few modifications and improvements since this early model. I found a way to amplify the signal and expand the radius much wider, disabling electronics for a much longer period of time. We just attach one to a drone, fly it into the right spot, and...lights out."

"We don't need to arm ourselves more than the State," Elena said with a smile. "We simply need to disarm them, just as they disarmed us."

"Not all of us," Dozer reminded her with a wink. Jason flashed him a puzzled look.

"We've amassed a small stockpile of weapons, which the State overlooked when they confiscated all of the citizens' weapons," Elena explained. "These guns are really old, but they work just fine."

"The EMP won't disable the officers' weapons," Dozer added. "They'll lose their laser guidance systems, but they can switch to manual override."

"Shit, without those lasers doing all the work for them, I doubt any of those knuckle-draggers could hit a Dozer-sized target from twenty yards away," Elena said. "Once we take out those drones, along with their communications, surveillance, and laser guidance systems, we will still be heavily outgunned, but at least we'll have more of a fair fight."

"My friends, the Third Revolution will soon begin," Reardon said, "in the same place where the first one began. How poetic is that?"



The Third Revolution Ch. 10



Kat stood in the elevator, fidgeting nervously with her skirt. "Dozer, are you sure he's expecting me?"

"I hacked into his calendar," said the voice in her earpiece. "You're all set."

The door of the elevator opened. Kat filled her lungs and slowly exhaled, and then strutted with confidence toward the secretary. Seated behind an ornate greeting counter, the secretary eyed Kat from head to toe and motioned for her to continue through to the main office.

"I'm heading in," Kat said as she strutted down the hallway toward the imposing doors.

"You need to remove your device," Jason reminded her. "Reconnect with us once you're in the control room. Good luck."

Kat removed her device, flattened her skirt, and took a deep breath before pulling open the doors. Senator Hobbes was seated at his desk at the opposite end of the spacious office. He wore a lascivious grin as he watched Kat close the doors behind her and saunter into the room. She stood on the lush Oriental carpet in the center of the room and stopped.

"You must be the new girl," Hobbes said, licking his lips.

On the inside, Kat felt as though she were on the precipice of a panic attack. Her heart raced, and her palms were clammy. She could feel a cold bead of sweat trickle from her underarm down her side. On the outside, she appeared calm and in control.

"Shut your mouth, you fat pig," she said.

His grin disappeared, and Hobbes rose from his chair and marched around to the front of his desk. He looked at her for a moment, and then bowed his head, casting his eyes to the floor.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Kat stood for a moment, motionless, gathering herself. Her black leather corset squeezed her breasts together, nearly pushing them over the top. She wore a tiny black leather skirt, and thigh-high boots with four inch heels. She carried a small handbag in one hand and a long riding crop in the other. She dropped the bag to the floor and approached him.

"You're a filthy little piggy, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Hobbes said, remaining still, with his head bowed.

Kat slowly paced around him in a circle, slapping her riding crop against the palm of her gloved hand. "Drop your pants," she ordered.

Without hesitation, Hobbes immediately unbuckled and unzipped his pants and lowered them to the floor.

"The tighty whities, too," she said.

Hobbes dutifully lowered his underwear as well, leaving him standing naked from the waist down, his pants comically bundled at his feet. His pale member was barely visible below his protruding belly, but was growing fuller.

Kat stood before him and used the end of her crop to lightly slap against his genitals. "Pathetic," she hissed. "You're already getting excited, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he meekly responded.

"Turn around and put your hands and head on the desk," she ordered. Hobbes complied, his fat ass now grotesquely displayed before her. With a jarring sound, the crop whipped through the air and struck him, hard, across his left cheek, causing ripples of milky-white flesh and a groan through gritted teeth.

"You like that, don't you, pig?" she asked, gently rubbing the spot where the crop had struck.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

"Then you should thank me for it."

"Thank you, ma'am."

He received another hard slash of the riding crop across his other ass cheek, and he thanked her once more. Again and again the crop sliced through the air and landed with a loud smack, until both cheeks were covered with red welts. She continued her assault until she sensed he could not withstand any more punishment. She ordered him to turn around and stand before her.

She reached into her bag and produced a blindfold, securing it around his head. Next, she retrieved a set of transparent ties, which she used to secure his hands behind his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked. The words had barely escaped from his lips when he felt a hard slap across his face.

"You will not speak unless spoken to!" Kat hissed. She reached into her bag once more and forced a hard rubber ball into his mouth. The senator struggled in defiance, and received another hard slap across the face. He sniffled, and attempted to stand obedient and still.

Before reaching into her bag for the final time, Kat looked down at his small, hard, cock and flicked it a few times with her crop, laughing to herself.

"You like this, don't you, pig?" she said. All he could do was nod in response. "It takes a special kind of sick fuck to enjoy being humiliated and punished like this, doesn't it? Are you a sick fuck, pig?"

He nodded again, with enthusiasm. Mucus dripped from his nose and into the corner of his mouth, and he tried to spit it out.

"Not everyone likes being treated like a sick fucking pig," she continued, slapping his balls with her riding crop. "I don't. But I didn't have a choice. I was used by a sick, fat, fuck just like you, for a very long time. He tortured me so badly, I was hospitalized several times. He gave me scars that I carry to this day, inside and out. And there was nothing I could do about it."

The senator felt a device being clamped around his genitals. He struggled against it, and received another hard slap across the face that made him dizzy. He stumbled, and nearly fell over.

"I couldn't do anything about it," she continued, "until now."

Hobbes tried to speak, causing saliva to flow down his fleshy chin. Kat leaned in closer to hear him.

"I believe you asked if that is a cock cage secured around your tiny little package," she said. "It is, in a way. But this one is custom built."

She removed his blindfold, and he stared wide-eyed at her, and then noticed the small remote she was holding.

"Yes, this is a remote control device," she explained. "Want to know what it does?"

Hobbes shook his head feverishly, and attempted to bolt toward the door, hopping with his pants still wrapped around his ankles. Kat casually pressed a button on the device, and he instantly collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain, screaming through the rubber ball jammed in his mouth.

"Feels like a kick in the nuts," she said, "or so I'm told. I wouldn't know, of course. They tell me it's like that, only several times more painful. I care not to imagine it."

Hobbes curled into a fetal position on his side, whimpering and pleading with his eyes.

"Here's the thing," she said, kneeling next to him on the floor. "That was only the lowest setting. At the highest setting, your balls will actually be squeezed so tightly, they'll pop like a couple of water balloons. I've never actually witnessed that, but I believe it. And there is another button here that will instantly castrate you. That's right, the whole thing. Cock and balls. Nasty, I know."

Hobbes gasped for breath, and his face turned red.

"I'm going to remove that ball in your mouth," she said, "and I swear to you, if you make a single sound or alert anyone to what is happening, you can say good-bye to the family jewels. Nod if you understand."

He nodded furiously, and she removed the ball, causing him to choke and cough.

"Stand up," she said. He stood, and she raised his underwear and pants, keeping the cage device secure and hidden. "You're going to take me to the control room," she stated calmly. "And you're going to get me inside. If you alert anyone, I press that button. If you refuse, I press that button."

She took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiped his nose, and fixed his hair. "Are we clear?"

"I don't know what you think you're doing," he said, "but you're a dead woman."

She slapped him again, and he stumbled backward. "I said, are we clear?" He nodded in response. "Good, then let's go."

The senator's secretary said not a word as they passed her and walked toward the elevator. She had learned long ago not to question the senator, especially when it came to his private activities. Kat pressed the button for the top floor, and when the elevator reached the top, they were greeted by an armed guard who stood outside of the control room.

"Senator," the guard said, standing at attention.

"I...I need to get into the control room," Hobbes said, a bead of sweat cascading down his forehead.

The guard looked at the senator, and then at Kat. "Is everything okay, Senator?"

"Did you not hear what I said?" Hobbes shouted, his face turning red. "Just let us into the room. Now."

The guard hesitated for a moment, assessing the situation. He looked at Kat, and she smiled at him sweetly. The guard stepped aside and allowed Hobbes to approach the door of the control room, which opened upon recognizing the senator's credentials.

Once inside, Kat wore her information device. "Dozer" she said, "I'm in."

She pushed the senator to a corner of the room and held her remote control aloft as a reminder. She then sat at one of the consoles and began entering commands into a portal. The senator watched with curiosity as time passed. At last, she seemed to wrap up whatever it was she was doing and returned to the senator.

"Time to go," she said.

"Good work, Kat," Dozer said through her earpiece. "You have ten minutes to get out of that building. Once that message begins, they will go to lockdown."

"Copy that," she responded. "I just have to get the senator back to his office, or it will raise suspicion."

"Then do it," Dozer said, "quickly."

The door opened, and they walked past the guard. They were only a few steps away from the elevator when she heard a voice behind her.

"Citizen, stop right there!" the guard shouted, marching toward them at a brisk pace, with a hand poised over his weapon.

Kat looked at the senator, and then to the guard. "Is there a problem?"

"Your device," the guard said, motioning toward her ear. Kat's heart raced.

"Oh, yes," she said, removing it quickly. "Sorry, I forgot about that."

Her hands shaking, she nervously folded the device and struggled to get it into the pocket of her tight-fitting skirt. As she did so, the guard looked at the senator, who motioned with his eyes toward Kat's left hand. In one swift motion, the guard attempted to snatch the remote control from her hand. As they struggled, Hobbes collapsed onto the floor, screaming in agony.

Landing an elbow to the side of her head, the guard finally wrested the device from her hand. He drew his weapon and pointed it at her head, resulting in a small red cross illuminating on her forehead.

"Senator Hobbes has a very strict policy against information devices in his presence," the guard said. "Everyone knows that."

"Take her to the prison," Hobbes shouted from the floor. He looked at Kat with bloodshot eyes. "Your death will not come quickly, I promise you."



The Third Revolution Ch. 11



"We have to move in!" Jason shouted. "Now!"

"Not yet!" Reardon said. "We stick to the plan!"

Jason stepped forward, just inches from Reardon's face. "Fuck the plan," he said. "We need to get her out of there. We're only a block away. I can see the fucking building from here!"

"She'll be okay," Reardon said, gently pushing Jason away. "You heard what the senator said. We have time."

"You don't understand what those prisons are like!" Jason said.

"Of course I do! What, you think you're the only one here who has been imprisoned by the State? Step back, Jason, and let us do our work."

Jason stared him down. Every muscle in his body tensed, and his breathing was erratic. He marched over to a table and slammed his fist on top of it, sending its contents flying into the air.

"You want to contain your little pet?" Zack said, looking at Elena from the corner of his eye.

Elena watched as Jason slumped to the floor with his back against a wall, his face a shade of crimson. She couldn't comprehend what it was about that woman that made him act so foolishly.

"Five minutes," Dozer noted, peering into a display.

"Where are we with the drone?" Reardon asked, turning to Zack.

"ETA in fifteen minutes," Zack responded, his jaw muscles flexing as he chewed a substance of some kind.

"Team Charlie?" Reardon said into his device.

"We are in position outside of the north gate," came the reply. "Waiting for go."

"Team Delta?" Reardon said.

"In position," another voice responded. "Waiting for go."

Precisely five minutes since Zack's report, an image appeared on Jason's information device. He noted that it was a familiar text message: "Freedom is never volunteered by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed." He turned to Reardon, who turned toward him and smiled.

"Martin Luther King," Reardon noted, grinning from ear to ear. "I just love those old quotes."

The image was replaced with a video of Reardon, standing in front an unusual flag with red and white horizontal stripes and a square of blue in the upper left corner, filled with rows of white stars.

"My name is John Reardon," he said in his recorded video message, "and I have an important message for every citizen in this city."

As the message continued, Jason went to a window and carefully peered outside. Everywhere he looked, citizens were standing in the middle of the streets, on sidewalks, and in long lines, completely still, hanging on every word. Every information display surrounding the city played the same image, simultaneously, as armed officers shouted into their headsets and attempted to force the citizens to remove their personal information devices.

The video showed footage from drones outside the city walls, and images of the horrors from the labor camps, prison camps and birthing camps flashed on every display. The expressions of terror and disgust on the faces of the citizens were a sign that the veil had been lifted, and their eyes had been opened to the reality of State rule.

Next, they were shown video footage of the lavish accommodations of senators and State bureaucrats, interlaced with footage of citizens being beaten in the streets and killed in cold blood by officers of the State, all overlaid with a voiceover message from Reardon.

"Liberty cannot be preserved without knowledge among the people," Reardon said in his message. "Knowledge is power. I have given you the knowledge. What happens next is up to you. A man named Abraham Lincoln once said, 'America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.' We gave away our freedoms by allowing the State to take it from us. Now, it is time for us – the people – to take it back."

The image on Jason's device faded to black, and he returned his focus to the streets outside. People huddled together in groups and chatted with excited gestures while officers attempted to break them apart and move them along.

"Drone?" Reardon asked.

"Coming into position," Zack announced.

Reardon surveyed the team, each of whom was carrying a rifle and handgun. Several of them were checking and double-checking their weapons and ammo.

"Is everyone ready?" he asked. One by one, each member of the team nodded in assent. "Remember, our greatest advantage is the element of surprise. They won't know what hit them until it's too late."

"Fuck yeah!" Dozer shouted, slapping an ammo cartridge into its chamber.

"Team Charlie will secure the gate and clear our escape route," Reardon reminded them. "Team Delta will draw the governor to the safe room, as we rehearsed. We have been working toward this moment for years .Be smart. And show no mercy."

"Drone is in position," Zack announced.

"Fire it up," Reardon ordered.

A low-toned reverberation shook the building. The images and readouts in Jason's PID disappeared, and the streets instantly fell into an eerie silence. Then, the first crash was heard, just outside their building's entrance. Jason looked out the window and saw drone after drone crashing to the streets with a deafening sound. The citizens screamed and scrambled for cover. Some were less lucky than others, and were hit by falling drones, sending them to the street in pools of blood.

"Wait..." Reardon calmly ordered.

The crashes continued as drones rained down from the sky, one after another, shattering in the streets, on rooftops, and along the sides of buildings. Panicked citizens ran for their lives, glancing over the shoulders toward the sky. A couple of citizens picked up a trash can from the street corner and hurled it through a large window. People began climbing through the shards of glass to escape from the falling debris.

An officer ran to the scene of the shattered window and pointed his weapon at a young man who was attempting to enter the building. The officer hesitated for a moment, and then checked his weapon, allowing the man to escape into the building, just moments before a drone struck the officer along the side of his helmet, sending him sprawling along the pavement.

"Now!" Reardon shouted. He led the group through the door and into the streets, walking quickly, but calmly, toward the State Office. They advanced to the front door of the building, where Reardon efficiently disposed of two guards standing at the entrance with two clean shots to the head. While he continued into the building, Elena gathered the weapons from both guards and hurried to catch up to him.

She swiveled her head in every direction, and then stopped and looked behind her, with an expression of panic.

"Jason?" she yelled. He was nowhere in sight.

***

"What the fuck is going on?" said the man with the nametag reading, "Stevens."

"I don't have a goddamned clue," said the other man, wearing the nametag "Hatcher."

They were surrounded in darkness, with the exceptions of the dim green lights emanating from the small instruments they held. Hatcher checked the floor to his right. The woman, lying on her side, naked, battered and bruised, hadn't moved since the lights went out.

"What do we do?" he asked.

"Our orders were to wait for the senator," Stevens responded. "He said he wanted to interrogate this one himself. So we wait."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know. But did you notice? She looks different now."

Hatcher kneeled on the floor next to the woman and shined his light on her face. It was swollen and bloody, but Stevens was right. She looked completely different than she did when they brought her into the room.

He was studying her face intently when he heard a loud thud and a groan behind him. He wheeled around and was instantly knocked out by a powerful blow to the bridge of his nose.

Another dim green light illuminated, and Jason's face emerged from the darkness, holding his rifle from the barrel end. He kneeled next to Kat and checked her pulse. She leaped at his touch, and made a move for his rifle.

"Kat, it's me!" he shouted. It took a moment for her to register what was happening. When she did, she threw her arms around his shoulders and wept.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm getting you out of here." He embraced her for a moment longer, gently caressing her hair as she continued to sob with her face pressed against his shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Can you walk?"

"I...I don't know," she responded.

Jason helped her to her feet, and she nearly collapsed under her own weight. Even in the dim light, he could see she was in bad shape.

"I can do it," she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and hobbling on one foot. "Let's get out of here."

"This way," he said, leading her toward the door.

"Wait, please!" a voice croaked.

Jason turned toward the voice and shined his light on one of the cell doors. A pair of eyes peered at him through the slits in the door. Jason recognized those haunting dark eyes immediately.

"Just wait here for a minute," he said, leaning Kat against the door. He approached one of the officers lying on the floor and searched his pockets until he found the key. He unlocked the cell door, and the young man stumbled through it, looking pale and emaciated.

"Thank you," the young man said.

Jason nodded and returned to Kat. He led her through the door and down the hallway, to the small shower area. He searched through the lockers until he found a set of clothes, which he helped Kat to wear. They made their way down the darkened corridor, one of them practically carrying the other.

***

"Franklin, you're up," Reardon said as they reached the large metal door. A man with long, greasy black hair and a face covered with stubble approached the door with a large duffle bag. He worked quickly, setting charges on the door along several pressure points, and connecting them with wires.

Elena watched with curiosity as Franklin made his final connection, and then checked each one with meticulous care. She glanced at Reardon, who seemed almost giddy with excitement. Behind them, the hallway had been cleared of State officers and guards in an incredibly efficient manner. They had rehearsed this scenario countless times, and their plan was being executed flawlessly. It was almost too good to be true.

Franklin turned around and unspooled a long strand of wire. As he did so, Reardon motioned for the rest of the team to take cover around the corner. On Reardon's signal, Franklin detonated the device, and the thunderous explosion rocked the walls and floors. Reardon leapt to his feet and signaled to his team. They entered the adjoining room and fired several rounds through the smoke and debris while Elena waited outside of the room, ensuring their escape route was clear.

Moments later, Reardon emerged with his rifle held in one arm, and Governor Davis in the other. Davis wore a tattered business suit and an expression of defiance. His hands were secured behind his back, and he walked with a limp.

"I don't know what you people think you're going to accomplish," Davis hissed, "but you will all pay for this with your lives. I promise you that."

"Yeah, well, we all know politicians don't keep their promises," Reardon quipped.

With practiced efficiency, they moved to the stairway, descended several flights, and proceeded down the main hallway toward the front exit of the building. With daylight in sight, they forged ahead at a rapid pace.

Suddenly, one of the women at the front of the group was struck in the head, and landed dead on the floor. The sound of gunfire echoed through the hallway. Another rebel was hit in the thigh, and collapsed on the spot.

"Take cover!" Reardon shouted, pushing the governor into a small nook along the hallway.

Screams of pain rang out from the back of their group, and several more members of the team collapsed on the spot. Blood splattered the walls and floor as the team huddled into cramped nooks at either side of the hallway.

"We're pinned down!" Elena shouted as bullets shredded the walls around them from both directions. "There's nowhere to go!"

***

"This way," Jason said, struggling to carry Kat's full weight around his shoulders as they shuffled down a back alley. "The rendezvous point is just ahead."

"Jason, wait," she said. "I...can't do this for much longer. I need to rest."

"It's only about six blocks," he said, pulling her forward. "You can do it."

"I can't," she said, pleading with her bright blue eyes.

Jason glanced quickly in both directions, and found a spot along the alley that was hidden from view. "We'll rest, but only for a little while. The other teams will be expecting us at the north gate by six o'clock." He checked the antique wristwatch Elena had given him.

"Why did you come back for me?" she asked, searching his expression. "After everything I did. Your father..."

"I'm to blame for my father's death as much as you are," he said.

"How can you say that?"

"I had a choice. I could have stayed with the State, and my father would still be alive. I put us both in danger."

"But I betrayed you."

"Yes, you did. And you still need to answer for that. But you made your decision because you thought that we would both be unharmed. You also thought my father would be safe. The State betrayed all of us."

Kat sat in silence for a moment. "You shouldn't have come back for me. You could have been killed."

"It was a risk I was willing to take," he said. "I couldn't stand the thought of losing you forever. I feel connected to you in a weird way."

"I feel the same," she said with a smile. "You know, in a weird way."

He looked into her eyes and remembered how he felt that first time he noticed how beautiful they were. "Back at the cabin, when we...had sex. You said it was purely physical. Did you mean that?"

Kat shook her head and smiled sweetly. He leaned in and kissed her, feeling that familiar jolt of adrenaline in his chest. "We have to go," he said.

He helped her to her feet and placed her arm around his shoulder, and together they slowly made their way along the alley. He turned to her with a grin and spoke once more.

"When all of this is over, we—"

A crippling blow at the back of his knees caused him to collapse to the pavement, bringing Kat tumbling along with him. He dropped his rifle, and quickly tried to pick it up, but it was kicked away by a large set of boots. Jason looked up, just in time to shield himself from a crushing blow from a baton. The swing caught him on the left forearm, causing such intense pain it felt as though his bone were broken.

He scrambled quickly away from his attacker and managed to stand and face him. That is when he recognized the familiar scar spanning from his assailant's left eye to the corner of his mouth.

"Cheka," Jason said.

Cheka smiled. "You remember? How sweet."

***

Elena blindly fired her weapon from around a corner and miraculously dodged the return fire from both directions. She checked her ammo, and then looked at Reardon. He gave her a look of stubborn determination. They were pinned down from both sides of the hallway, with no backup on the way to come to their rescue, and yet he acted as though he had the State right where he wanted them.

Suddenly, the gunfire ceased from both ends of the hallway, and a man's voice resounded from the rear of the building.

"John Reardon!"

Reardon smiled at Elena. "Good guess!" he shouted.

"Mr. Reardon, I am Captain Moore of the Governor's Security Force. You are aware that you are fighting a losing battle."

"Not from where I'm sitting," Reardon responded.

The captain laughed. "And how so?"

"Because I'm sitting next to your governor."

There was silence for a moment. "So you are," Moore responded. "And what do you intend to do with him?"

"Well," Reardon shouted, "it seems as though Plan A went out the window when you guys showed up. So now we're on to Plan B."

"And what would that be?"

"A trade," Reardon said. "Your men put down their weapons and step aside. We walk out that front door. And you get your governor, safe and sound."

The captain seemed to pause to consider the offer. "And if I reject that offer?"

"Then we all die, and some of you die. And your governor will be the first to go."

Elena looked at Reardon with concern, and he nodded in assurance.

"Well, that seems like a very reasonable offer, Mr. Reardon," said the captain.

"Then tell your men to drop their weapons," Reardon shouted.

"Our men at the front entrance will drop their weapons and clear the way for you," Captain Moore responded, "but these men with me will not. We will not shoot, but we will not drop our weapons."

"No deal!" Reardon yelled.

"Don't be a fool," Moore answered. "If you think we're all going to drop our weapons and watch you walk out that door with the governor, you are sadly delusional."

"Take the deal," Elena whispered across the hallway. "We all live to fight another battle. You die, and this entire revolution dies with you," she said.

"The revolution is far bigger than one man," Reardon said. He looked at the governor, and then to Elena. "Okay, Moore, you have a deal."

The sound of weapons being placed on the floor echoed along the hallway toward the front of the building, and the officers disappeared from sight. Reardon grabbed the governor from behind, placing one arm around his neck, and pointing a handgun at his temple. He sidled into the hallway, holding the governor in front of him, and faced the rear of the building. He eyed the captain, who stood, stone-faced, flanked by several officers with weapons drawn and pointed in Reardon's direction.

Reardon motioned for the groups at either end of the hallway to proceed to the front door. One by one, they filtered into the hall, backing toward the front door with their weapons aimed at the group of officers. When the first of the group reached the front door, she carefully looked around the corner in both directions.

"All clear!" she yelled.

Elena was the last to reach the front exit.

"John, we're all clear!" she shouted. "Time to go!"

Reardon looked into the eyes of the captain and smiled. "I regret that I have but one life to give for my country," he said. The captain cocked his head to the side. Reardon pulled the trigger, instantly painting the hallway wall with the blood and brain tissue of the governor.

The regiment of officers fired in unison. Reardon was pummeled with a barrage of bullets, which ripped into his flesh. Elena shrieked, and fired her weapon wildly into the crowd at the other end of the building, striking one of the officers, who slumped to the floor. Before she could fire again, a hand grasped her by the collar and yanked her away from the doorway, just as the door frame shattered into tiny fragments.

***

Before he could speak again, Jason was hit with another hard blow to the rib cage, followed by a kick to the chest that sent him sprawling backward. He landed hard on the pavement, knocking the wind from his lungs. With a sinister grin, Cheka lurched toward him to deliver another crushing blow.

From behind, Kat wrapped her arm around Cheka's neck and squeezed with every ounce of strength she had. Cheka easily tossed her to the street like a ragdoll, hurling her into a brick wall. She landed face-down and lay limp and motionless.

With a bellow of rage, Jason sprang to his feet and sprinted at Cheka with his shoulders lowered. He hit him at full force, driving him backward into the wall with a hard thud. Cheka raised his elbow and brought it down on Jason's back, causing him to collapse onto all fours. Cheka's foot then caved in Jason's abdomen, sending him reeling backward.

Jason rolled over onto his back and faced Cheka, lying bloody and barely conscious on the hard asphalt. Cheka loomed over him with his baton in hand and straddled Jason's body. With a satisfied grin, he raised his baton high above his head.




The Third Revolution Ch. 11



Suddenly, Cheka's eyes bulged and his mouth gaped opened. Dark red blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he collapsed on top of Jason in a heaping mass. Jason struggled to roll Cheka's lifeless body off of him. When he cleared him, he saw that the young man from the prison standing over him with a bloody knife in his hand and a victorious grin on his face.

***

Jason Locke stood before his vast living room window and watched as the sun set in a blazing canopy of oranges and reds over the mountains in the distance. Beyond those mountains, in city after city, the war waged on. Word of the Third Revolution's victories in New Boston spread quickly, and insurrections in other cities soon followed.

The governors of neighboring cities sent troops to New Boston in an attempt to quell the rioting, but they eventually retreated in the face of a well-organized militia. New Boston was the first city to fall out of the hands of State control. Thanks to a reconstructed communications network, the new leaders of the city were able to coordinate with the leaders of revolutionary groups in other cities, and the movement spread and flourished. State infrastructures began to collapse from within, though a mixture of corruption and incompetence. Gradually, the people regained the freedoms they had lost.

Jason felt a presence behind him, and turned to see Kat stroll into the room. Her long black hair landed in gentle curls around her shoulders, and she softly hummed a tune with a sweet melody. She smiled and placed a beverage on the table, and then bent down to pick up their baby daughter, Emily.

He came to the table and sat down, while Emily smiled at him from the other side of the table. He gave her a playful wave, and she rewarded him with a toothless smile. He raised the glass to his lips and savored the sweet taste of the bubbling cola, mixed with a soothing blend of spiced rum.

"You've been working so hard," Kat noted, "tending the fields and animals all day, I figured you could use a treat. Is there anything else I can do for you, honey?"

Jason smiled and heaved a contented sigh. "I have everything I need," he said.