Awaken (32 page)

When we sat down in the plane, Clare took something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It looked like a tube of lipstick.

I frowned at her. “Is this really the time to swap makeup?” I asked.

She grinned. “It’s a hand taser. My parents make me carry one.” She took the cap off and pointed to the metal edge. “If someone attacks you, you press the tip against their skin and it shoots out a charge.”

I looked down at it. “Does it last long?”

She shook her head. “It’s pretty harmless. Noah and Pat used to play taser tag around the house when I was growing up. It freezes people for about a minute, long enough to run away.”

She told me it might come in handy. I thanked her and stuffed the tube in my jeans pocket.

We landed in Portland at another private airport and a black van was waiting for us, parked at the edge of the runway.

“Why don’t we take a ZipShuttle?” I asked as we ran toward the car. “Wouldn’t it be faster?”

Clare pulled me along. “Yes, but you can’t use your fingerprint right now. The police are still looking for you. The second your fingerprint is scanned anywhere, you’ll hear sirens.”

I groaned as we got in the car. “Maybe I should have stayed behind,” I said. “I’m more of a risk than anything right now.”

Clare shook her head. “No, you’re helping to bring back Justin. We all would risk anything for him.”

Riley was in the driver’s seat and told us my dad had just started his speech. The digital screen inside the car was on so we could watch the press conference.

“Has anyone heard from Justin yet?” I asked. Riley shook his head and said there wasn’t a single protester there.

We crossed over Freemont Bridge toward the sky-rises of downtown Portland. I stared out the window, looking for a mob of supporters, but the city looked placid and still. The van twisted and turned, speeding past trains and ZipShuttles. We approached the historic downtown and sped down a street bordering the Willamette River. We slowed when we approached Waterfront Park, a wide green expanse along the river’s edge and encircled by a border of synthetic shrubs and trees. In the distance I could see a stage and the unmistakable cluster of reporters and photographers that followed my dad around like a shadow.

Onstage, surrounded by the event security, my father made his presence. He stood behind a podium stacked high with microphones. About a hundred yards behind the stage was a cluster of people crammed together like cattle in a confined, rectangular space.

“So that’s what happened to the protesters,” Clare said. She flipped the channel on the screen in the car until Scott and Molly appeared, sitting in Scott’s living room.

“It looks like an electric fence is holding them in,” she said. “Have you ever seen anything like that?” She pointed the camera lens of her phone out the window so Scott could see it.

I stared out at the park but I didn’t see the crowd of supporters.

“This couldn’t be the right conference,” I said to Riley. “Where are all the people?” I looked back at the screen. “Scott, what are you seeing?” He turned and looked at a screen behind him. From his viewpoint, there were thousands of people screaming and holding signs, cheering on my father’s speech. I stared back at the stage. The park, except for the media and the contained protesters, was completely empty.

Riley pulled off to a side street and we all jumped out of the car. Clare still had Scott’s image on her phone.

“There’s no one here, Scott. What’s going on?”

“That’s impossible,” he said. We headed down the street while we watched the news coverage on Riley’s phone screen, still showing hordes of people. Clare scanned the area of the conference in front of us so Scott could see the reality. Not one single supporter.

Scott swore into the phone.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “They’re projecting an image of fans using a hologram. It’s all a media hoax.”

“They would never do that,” I said, but after we cleared a row of trees, we noticed the wide blue screen stretching along the opposite side of the stage. When the cameras panned the empty screen, the rest of the country saw a crowd.

“They’re containing all the protesters so they don’t get in the way of the cameras,” Scott pointed out.

“Very clever,” Molly said.

“Why would they go to all the trouble to stage this?” I asked.

“To make society think everyone loves DS. You’re a lot less likely to rebel against something when you think you’re all alone,” Scott pointed out.

As we got closer, we could hear my father’s voice carried through the speakers mounted around the stage. I stared at him, humiliated that he could go along with such a blatant lie. It was all an act. And he
knew
it. He knew, yet he was still going through with it. He was a liar and a coward.

I looked over at the protesters. “How many people do you think are in there?” I asked.

Scott looked down on his monitor for a second. “About four hundred,” he said.

I started to cross the street toward the park and headed straight for the security guard standing at the entrance of the gate. Clare grabbed my arm.

“Wait? What if your dad sees you?”

My eyes were wild as I scanned the crowd of protesters.

“I don’t care. We need to get them out of there.” I turned back and looked at Clare and Riley. “Listen, I need to do this by myself. There’s no point in sticking together in case I get caught. I can’t handle being responsible for all of you getting arrested in one day.” I looked at Riley. “Why don’t you figure out a way to get us out of here if this does work by some miracle?”

Riley nodded and said he’d hang back by the car. He put a cell phone in my hand.

“Justin will know what to do if you get him out,” he told me.

I nodded and put the phone in my pocket. I looked at Clare but she shook her head and met my eyes stubbornly.

“I’m coming with you,” she said. “You can’t do this all by yourself.” I knew she wouldn’t back down so instead of wasting time arguing, I started to cross the street.

“Good luck,” Riley called after us.

Clare and I crouched low behind a row of thick bushes to hide the best we could. My dad’s back was to us as he talked out to the imaginary crowd. There were two security guards standing in front of the electric fence, one on either side. I squatted down and shrugged off the backpack.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t stormed a lot of press conferences and tried to break through electric security gates.”

“Maybe you could hack into the conference security and see if you can shut off the electric fence?” Clare offered.

I shook my head. “We don’t have time for that,” I said. “Besides, I’m sure Scott’s tried already.” I thought back to what Justin had said. How to take people by surprise by
not
depending on technology.

My father’s voice boomed out around us as he began his closing statements. His voice always grew louder when he was drawing to a close. His exit to all of his speeches was to startle. To shock. To keep people faithful to his institution.

I peered around the edge of the shrub at one of the security guards. He was kicking the ground under his feet and looked more bored than intimidating. I scanned the people locked inside the fence, but I couldn’t make out Justin or Pat. There had to be a way to shut off the gates. I glanced back at the security guard. He looked about my age, tall and lean. I smiled when an idea took shape.

“Let’s do this the old-fashioned way,” I said. I peeled off my jacket and stuffed it inside the backpack. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and raked my fingers through, to make it fall long around me.

“What are you doing?” Clare asked. I looked back at Clare’s large, quizzical eyes and hoped this would work.

“You take the security guard closer to the stage,” I told her.

“Take him?” she asked.

“Distract him,” I said. “Just give me thirty seconds, that’s all I need. Keep his eyes off of that fence for thirty seconds.”

“That’s your plan?” she asked, and I nodded. She looked over at the guard and back at me. “How do I distract him?” she said.

“Flirt with him,” I said. “Flash him. I don’t care. Use your female powers of persuasion.” Clare grinned, catching on to my idea.

“Maddie,” she said before she turned away. Her face was serious. “Be careful. If anything happened to you, Justin would…” Her voice trailed off. “Just don’t let anything happen to you. Promise?”

I nodded and promised her I’d be fine. I ushered her forward and pulled the backpack over my shoulders. We inched our way closer to the open turf grass, toward the barricade.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I could just make out the back of my father’s head over the bodyguards that lined up behind him. Cameras were flashing. Standing there, I finally realized what effect my father had over me. It wasn’t control. It wasn’t intimidation. It was fear. Fear because my father, the one person who should love me no matter what, chose to confine me, to limit me. He created a world full of lies yet he asked me to trust him. And now, standing so close to him, I realized what I feared the most. If my father had to choose who he was loyal to, digital school or his own family, what would his choice be? The fact that I couldn’t answer this question made me want to crumble right there, in the middle of the scene.

Instead, I tried to shift my anger into inspiration. Justin was right. Maybe I was here to be a balance. To keep my father in check. Maybe I was the only person brave enough to stand up to him. After all, fear is what fuels you to survive.

“Remember,” my dad shouted. “Digital school is the cure to this country’s issues of instability, insecurity, and inequality.”

Clare and I ducked low behind a tall marble fountain, just on the other side of the fence.

“Under the digital school system,” he shouted, “we are all equal. There are no more social distinctions. We are all the same. And that’s the way life is intended.”

I took a deep breath and prayed this would work.

“We all have the same rights,” he shouted. “We all have the same chances. We all can succeed.” He took long pauses between each sentence to leave time for his fictional fans to cheer.

I nodded for Clare to go and watched her from behind the fountain. She approached the security guard, who turned his back to the fence in order to talk to her. Once she had his full attention, I sauntered up to the other guard standing by the front gate. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed me and I offered him a wide smile.

“In a world where the future is unknown, let this be known – DS IS
FREEDOM
,” my dad’s voice rang out.

I could hear the buzzing from the electronic fence. The security guard cleared his throat.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice coarse. I smiled again.

“I have a huge favor,” I said, and tossed my hair over one shoulder. His mouth relaxed a little. He pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead and his brown eyes looked me up and down. I took a step closer.

“What’s that?” he asked with interest.

I twirled a piece of hair around my finger and smiled.

“DS IS
EDUCATION
AT
ITS
BEST
,” my dad’s voice circled around me, like he was yelling right at me.

“I need you to do something for me,” I teased. He grinned and his rigid shoulders settled and I knew I had him.

“Well, that depends what it is,” he said.

I reached my fingers out and he lifted his hand high enough for me to grab it. His body jumped from the shock of the hand taser. He stumbled over to the ground, his eyes wide with surprise. I bent down and unclipped the holster around his waist, grabbing his gun.

“Sorry,” I said. “I just can’t have you messing this up right now.” I aimed and fired a shot into his shoulder. The gun released a tiny syringe that pierced his skin and knocked him out. His body went limp on the grass.

I turned to the gates, my heart racing.

“DS IS
PEACE
,” my dad shouted to the crowd. I stared up at my father and narrowed my eyes. I grabbed the guard’s arm and pressed his fingers against an emergency release switch. The sensor registered his prints and opened the gates.

The electric fence snapped off with a loud crackle and instantly a moving wave of people flooded out. An alarm wailed through the air. I covered my hands over my years to muffle the piercing noise and tried to back away as people sprinted around me. My dad’s head snapped around at the sea of people moving through the gate like water breaking through a dam. I saw a guard grab my father and drag him off of the stage, toward a security ZipShuttle. The photographers snapped pictures as rioters picked up the signs and banners lying in a heap next to the gates and stormed the steps. I was knocked over in the stampede. Shots rang out and people screamed, pushing and shoving each other. More shots. More screams. Legs and feet pummeled over and around me, stomping me to get to the stage. As I fought with all my strength to stand up, a hand grabbed me and yanked me off the ground.

I looked up at Justin and held on to his hand as we were pushed along with the moving crowd.

“What are you doing here?” he yelled over the noise. He looked furious. “Who sent you here?”

“
I
sent me,” I yelled, and I tried to keep hold of his hand as we were pushed and pulled in separate directions.

“You shouldn’t have risked it,” he yelled back. I tightened my lips together. Leave it to Justin to be protective right now.

“I couldn’t let you get arrested.”

He looked down at me and his eyes were raging. “Don’t worry about me. You’re too important.”

“No, you’re too important.”

“I can handle myself.”

I gasped when a photographer elbowed me in the stomach. Justin shoved the photographer out of the way and pulled me tight to his side.

“Is this really the time to argue?” I asked when I got my voice back.

We continued to yell as we were pushed and shoved along. I tripped and Justin had to pull me up again before the stampede pummeled me. We reached the edge of the park and both turned back for a second to take in the scene. His angry features finally softened. He pointed to the mob of people in front of us.