"Hurry!" Sweat slid down Rocke's forehead as he pushed his tired legs faster. He flinched as a laser bolt slipped past his chin, missing by mere inches.
"Just a little further," Maple said, pushing their charges forward. With dozens of guard robots on their tail, the slightest misstep might be their doom. The Ottomon couple trailed behind them, their breaths panting.
"Down this alley!" Rocke said, taking a sudden left turn. They dashed into a surprisingly clean alley, contrasted by the man in rags sitting inside it.
The homeless man gasped as he spotted Rocke, recognizing him. "Hey, you're that Demon-loving traitor!" When he saw the guard robots chasing after them, he tried obstructing their path. "I'll get a big reward if I catch you!"
"You must be kidding me." Rocke made a snap decision, ducking as a guard robot took another potshot at him. "Hurry, I'll distract them!"
The homeless man hesitated as Rocke got into his path, allowing his friends to pass. His priority was protecting the couple at all costs.
"You want to fight? Go ahead." Rocke said, standing to his full height. From the corner of his eye, his spotted the guard robots charging into the alleyway with them.
The man hesitated, surprised by Rocke's sudden boldness. But the homeless man sneered as the guard robots got closer. "He's mine, you hear! I found him!"
But the guard robots cared little about his words, programmed for ruthlessness. When they got a clear shot, they opened fire, heedless of who else they might hit.
"Hey!" The homeless man howled, ducking as the bolts flew past him. Rocke slipped against the wall, making himself a small target.
"Sorry about this!" Rocke said, making a snap decision. He grabbed the homeless man by the collar and hurled him at the guard robots, praying this would work.
The guard robots tottered as the homeless man collided with them, giving Rocke the split second he needed to flee. For good measure, he grabbed a neatly organized trash bin and hurled it at the guard robots. Rancid liquid dripped over their eyestalks, blinding them. Nearby cleaning robots tittered in annoyance, their claws cleaning up the mess. It'd only distract them for a split second, but that'd be enough.
"Back here, you traitor!" The homeless man yelled, wincing as he rose to his feet, but Rocke was already gone.
"There you are!" Maple said, relieved. She stood over an open sewer entrance. She hadn't wasted the time he'd bought her.
A rank smell wafted from the opening. But Rocke ignored it, alarmed as he realized that Maple was clutching her right side. "You've been hit!" In the confusion, he hadn't noticed.
"I'll survive." The older Ottomon woman said, her face pained but resolute. "We need to get moving."
Rocke cursed, but helped the couple enter the sewer entrance first. His eyes never left the alleyway he'd just fled. His heart pounded as he spotted silver shapes moving closer.
"Hurry!"
After the couple had entered, Maple was next. Despite her injury, she managed it. The guard robots had finally emerged from the alley and spotted them in seconds. They raised their weapons to fire, but Rocke jumped into the sewer hole before they could shoot.
"Ouch." His knees screamed in protest as he landed on hard cement, but he'd manage. "Hurry, the guard robots will call someone who can follow us."
The others of his party nodded, and Rocke limped after them as they headed deeper into the sewer, hopefully to safety.
---
"This way," Rocke gestured for the couple to follow. The sewers were quiet as they marched forward, their feet splashing through fetid water.
Despite Rocke's attempts to keep quiet, he'd somehow awakened the baby cradled in the woman's arms. The infant's cries echoed through the tunnels like a blasted bullhorn. Rocke winced, hoping nobody heard it. In hushed tones, the mother tried calming her child.
And behind them, Maple limped after them. Rocke grimaced at the blood oozing from her side. The stray laser wound had been worse than he'd thought.
"Is it much further?" the Ottomon man's tattoos were dimly visible in the faint light of Rocke's flashlight.
"It should be," Rocke remained straight-faced as the woman's baby continued bawling, gesturing for them to continue. With Maple wounded, he needed to show a brave face. Over the last few days, he'd learned the best option was to push forward and keep moving.
He'd changed much over the last ten days, seeing firsthand how terrible the people of his once-great country behaved. After Prime Minister Luciest's speech, everything had gone pear-shaped. Rocke was doing his best to mitigate the damage.
Visible relief struck Rocke's face as they finally reached the rendezvous point, a white hand marking the way. It was a simple design—a chalky handprint—but to the Ottomon people, it symbolized hope. He gestured for his charges to climb the metal ladder.
Fraught with tension, the couple did as instructed. While she struggled with one arm, the woman made the climb with some effort. Rushed from their home, they hadn't had the chance to grab something like a backpack carrier.
Maple had even greater trouble, woozy from blood loss. But with Rocke's and the husband's help, they somehow managed it.
"There you are," Jafia said, her relief visible. "You're late." Her expression turned to alarm when she noticed the blood straining Maple's dress. "Maple, you're hurt. Quickly, inside!"
Rocke relaxed somewhat, glad they'd reached a safe haven. They had an emergency medical kit in the safe house. Hopefully, its antibiotics would stave off any infection from Maple's trek through a sewer. Still, he remained on guard, knowing guard robots might still appear from nowhere. It had happened before. While they were in an abandoned area, they still stood out in the open.
"We ran into some trouble. But we got through, somehow." Rocke sighed. They'd only survived through the skin of their teeth.
"We'd better hurry, then. The robots might still be following you," They followed Jafia to a rundown building on Vladus' outskirts. It had once been an office building, but they'd converted it for their purposes.
"Thank you." the Ottomon man said, thumping his chest with a fist. "The rumors about you were true, young man. You are the Sovereign's chosen warrior. You fought to defend the High One's holy man."
This earned a slight smile from Rocke. Other Ottomon had also called him that. "I don't know about that. I'm just someone that wants to help."
The couple continued their praise, sitting down on a sofa that occupied the room. The furnishings were simple—a card table, a fridge, some cots, and a battered old couch.
From a cupboard, Rocke withdrew the medical kit. "Let's stop that bleeding.
He winced as Maple pulled up her shirt, the tissue scarred badly from the laser wound. After spraying it with disinfectant spray, Rocke attached a patch of artificial skin on the wound. It would attach itself to the skin and stanch the bleeding. Except for a slight discoloration, it was almost identical to real skin.
"Thank you, Rocke." Still pale, Maple rested on a cot. She lost consciousness almost immediately, her breathing pained. Rocke offered the Sovereign a quick prayer for their leader's quick recovery. They won't have survived with her these last nightmarish days.
"Don't get too comfortable," Jafia said, her tone serious. "We're moving again soon. But get some rest. There's food in the fridge and cots to sleep on. Get both. You'll need it."
The couple did as instructed, the woman finally getting her child asleep again. They shared a can of cold beans—a paltry meal, but it'd suffice.
Rocke rested against a wall, his limbs sore. He swore he'd trekked across almost the entirety of Vladus this last week.
"You holding up?" Jafia asked, her usually stoic features softening.
"As well as one can hope," Rocke replied. "Thanks for this. You've been a great help." Jafia's organizational skills had been invaluable in arranging these little smuggling raids.
The couple they'd helped had holed themselves up in a rotten, abandoned building before the resistance had found them. Rocke guessed it'd been their first meal in days from how they'd devoured those cold baked beans.
"I just hope Maple will be okay." Rocke said, giving the wounded Ottomon a quick glance.
"She's a tough old bird. She'll make it." Jafia didn't hide her admiration for the older woman. "Just doing my part. But it's still not enough," She showed a rare display of irritation.
While they'd brought dozens of Ottomon to freedom, tens of thousands still suffered in the internment camps. They both heard the stories about the camp's brutal conditions. People starved, living in quarters zoo animals would find constraining. Disease was rampant, and the OUP did little to aid them. From the reports, dozens died a day. It made Rocke wonder if the OUP intended to just kill the Ottomon in camps and not bother deporting them.
"Yeah." Rocke sighed, knowing the truth of his ex's words.
He fought back a yawn and stumbled over to a cot. He'd gotten precious few hours of sleep these last few hectic days. It was hard to rest with the military and police forces hounding his tail. Had it only been ten days since the Prime Minister Luciest's announcement? It'd seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Night." Rocke closed his eyes, following his own advice about getting some rest. He'd eat later. They'd move again in another four hours. Then, hopefully, they'd get the couple safely out of Vladus.
It felt like a defeat. The Ottomon were still getting banished from Vladus forever. Still, anything was preferable to abandoning them in the internment camps.
Besides, they had resources outside town to help them, led by Rocke's own grandmother. They'd built a little township outside Vladus called Hagion. The fledgling town, though merely shacks at present, offered a better alternative to wandering the plains outside the city. Since the OUP wasn't interested in providing for the expelled Ottomon people, they'd do it themselves.
Still, Rocke worried few Ottomon would survive Project: Ugly Duckling. It'd been pushed back a couple of day, but the Prime Minister was still gung-ho about completing it. In his bones, he felt a worse tragedy coming. He just prayed he could save enough people from what was coming.
---
"Really, it's no bother," Jafia said, accepting the Ottomon couple's thanks for the tenth time. Despite her protestations, they kept wanting to thank her. Jafia kept her annoyance at bay. Rocke was better with people than her. In Jafia's opinion, a hard day's work was reward enough. Thanks were unnecessary.
Eventually, everyone settled down for sleep—not easy with a cranky baby. From her limited medical knowledge, Maple seemed stable enough. It'd have to be enough until they return to Hagion. Restless, Jafia spent some time outside to keep watch. Besides, this last week hadn't given her much time alone.
Since Prime Minister Lux Luciest's announcement, Vladus had changed overnight, becoming a nightmarish landscape for anyone who didn't belong. And Jafia had felt that sting.
It was like fate had brought her closer to Rocke when the police raided her apartment. Somehow, Police Chief Rolf had gathered enough evidence for a warrant. Pity for the officers who'd rampaged through her apartment—the bomb had certainly been a surprise for them. That act solidified any suspicion that Jafia wasn't who she claimed to be. At least the law didn't know she was a Vanderfall spy—yet.
Still, it left her adrift, and she'd wandered into Rocke's circle. Not that she was complaining—his little resistance group was doing good work. Still, it was a far cry from her original mission of assassinating Mayor Sunbearer. How would she ever explain this to her superiors? Not only had she failed to kill her target, she'd failed to foster the chaos Vanderfall wanted before their invasion. Whatever. Circumstances had worked against her.
"I can keep guard." Rocke said, sidling over to her. "You can rest instead."
"No, it can wait. I'll rest later." Jafia replied. "I'm more surprised about you. Normally, you're out like a light when your head hits the pillow."
"I find little reason to sleep easy anymore." Rocke shook his head.
In his eyes, she saw the horrors he'd witnessed over these last ten days—from the massacres during the failed riots to the brutal lives the Ottomon suffered in the internment camps. Despite herself, it tore Jafia's heart apart. A sweetheart like him shouldn't suffer so. They sat in companionable silence before Jafia finally spoke up.
"With everything going on, I almost forgot." Jafia reached into her coat pocket and produced a worn book, battered and beaten from many years of use.
"My signed copy of The Adventures of the Sky Island?" Rocke accepted the book with reverence. "I assumed my parents threw away everything after my disgrace."
"No, not yet." Jafia's quirked in a slight smile. "I went to your apartment and retrieved your things. I wanted to return them to you. The rest I hid in a subway station locker, but I thought you'd want this first. I know it's important to you." Though, in retrospect, this might have fatally tipped her off to the police, but you can't predict the future.
Rocke's smile turned nostalgic. "My grandmother enjoyed reading this book to me when I was young. She was the only one who did—neither of my parents ever bothered. Anyway, how's Marsh holding up?"
"He seemed fine when I last saw him," Jafia replied, her tone neutral.
"It's funny—I want to see him again. Despite everything, I still miss him."
"Hm."
"Thanks for this." Rocke leaned over and rested on Jafia's shoulder. "And I missed you too. You've helped me when I least deserved it."
"Don't say that. I'm always glad to help."
"I mean it." Rocke's cheeks flushed as he struggled with what to say next. "You've stood by me during the worst. Most girls wouldn't."
"I'm not like those shallow UOP girls. I stick by my friends," Something in Jafia's heart told her to grab Rocke's hand and squeeze. But she resisted the impulse. Given their current situation, that'd be ridiculous. Still, she didn't protest as Rocke rested against her, his expression like an innocent child.
"Rocke, when this is over…" Jafia hesitated. What would they be after the UOP's collapse? Friends? Something more? She turned to see Rocke's reaction to her ridiculous floundering, but found him snoring against her. She only smiled and patted his cheek. He could be so adorable. With some effort, she pulled him onto an empty cot for better rest.
As she was finishing up, a sound caught her attention. Silently, she reached for a hidden sidearm and flipped off the safety. With careful steps, she headed toward the sound's direction. She backed away as the door swung open, weapon at the ready. But she relaxed as she saw who it was.
"Don't do that! I could have shot you!" Jafia said, putting her sidearm away. "Use the signal."
"I did." The man stood with his arms crossed. Rojan was of slight build and in his late fifties. Jafia knew, despite appearances, he could handle himself in a fight.
"Oh." Jafia felt embarrassed. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. Sloppy—she'd allowed her tiredness to distract her. "You're early. There's an hour left until we're ready to move out."
"I know. The winds blow across the plains."
Jafia tensed. "It chills a man to the bone," she said, giving the rest of the code phrase. But how did this man know it? "I wasn't expecting someone like you here."
"It's a bit of a coincidence, but a welcome one. Vanderfall wants to see the Ottomon safe. It's throwing in its support to help them, but not openly. At least, not yet."
"Good." Much to Jafia's relief, the others were still fast asleep. It was safe to speak, though they kept their voices low. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here and not off assassinating the mayor?"
"We can guess. We know about what happened at your apartment. There's a warrant out for your arrest. You're suspected of killing Minister Polk Loffie."
"Police Chief Rolf is sniffed me out like a rat," Jafia said, scowling. "And the mayor is too protected. He smelled something was wrong after Loffie died."
"Don't worry, I'm not here to scold you for your failure. No, I'm here for another opportunity."
"Oh?" This caught Jafia's attention.
"Three days from now, Mayor Sunbearer is planning a shindig to celebrate the success of Project: Ugly Duckling. He's inviting the city's elite to watch the Ottomon get evicted from Vladus forever on his personal airship the next day."
"Security will be tight." But already, Jafia's head spun with ideas.
"But we have a way in. While still cautious, Sunbearer has let his guard down somewhat. We want you to kill both him and the elite attending the party. This is an opportunity to sow chaos."
"Will the Prime Minister be there?"
"We don't think so," Rojan replied. "Other distractions are keeping him busy. Though, we suspect that Lux Luciest isn't interested in throwing too much support behind Sunbearer."
Jafia nodded. "I doubt he was happy when he learned about Project: Ugly Duckling." Though it didn't stop the canny, ruthless politician from turning the debacle to his advantage.
"Are you up to it?" Rojan asked. "We are perfectly fine with you helping Rocke's resistance group. Anything to keep the law distracted."
Jafia turned to watch the sleeping Rocke, her heart torn. She wanted to stay with him forever, never leaving his side, but she owed a duty to Vanderfall. Besides, Sunbearer deserved death for his crimes.
"I'll do it."
---
"This is a big plan, Matthias," Rocke said as his friend laid out his suggestion. With Maple injured, someone needed to watch out for the group. "Risky."
"But we must," Kallane said, gung-ho as ever. "My uncle's in that camp!"
"Hm." As usual, Nitao stood in the back, listening, arms crossed. While he hadn't understood exactly everything they'd said, he'd caught enough to understand.
This comment earned a raised eyebrow from Rocke. "I thought you despised him, Kallane."
"That may be, but he's still kin!" she argued back, and Rocke could only shake his head. Still, he had to sympathize with Hooven somewhat. The ex-Ottomon tried everything to get the OUP to accept him, only to get betrayed, anyway—not unlike him.
"Okay. But freeing an entire internment camp? That's beyond anything we've tried before. How would we even accomplish that? And how will we transport those people?"
"I understand your skepticism, but hear me out," the prophet replied. "This time, we will use their own technology against them. We're lucky—this camp, called Camp R, sits near Vladus's border. I thought we could rush along the deportation somewhat, right under the OUP's noses."
"Hmm." Rocke hadn't realized his friend was talking about the infamous Camp R. The stories from that camp sickened the soul. The warden, Famus Kin, was infamous for his cruelty—a "hero" of the last war with Vanderfall. He'd butchered entire settlements to make his enemy's country more pliable for peace talks. The Ottomon in that camp weren't safe in his hands. Many might not survive to Project: Ugly Duckling's due date. Still, this was a massive undertaking.
"You have my attention," Rocke said finally. "What's your plan?"
"It's something your girlfriend devised," Matthias said.
"She's not my girlfriend. Not anymore, anyway," Rocke replied evenly.
"Yeah, she isn't!" Kallene said. She was so touchy whenever Jafia's name came up. Rocke didn't understand the antipathy between the women. His ex had more than proven her trustworthiness.
"Anyway, she brought to my attention a vulnerability in the guard robots the city uses. Turns out, they aren't up-to-date, and their firmware has holes we can exploit," Matthias said. While the city owns hundreds of guard robots, most had stayed in use past their prime. The city council was stingy about replacing them with more advanced models, preferring to use the tax money for their personal pet projects instead.
"Okay, but what about the flesh-and-blood guards?" Rocke asked.
"That's the thing—Camp R only has half a dozen at best. Easy enough to subdue." Matthias wasn't wrong here. Containing thousands of citizens wasn't easy, and the city was forced to rely on guard robots to keep them contained.
"You make it sound so easy. What about when you sprung me from prison? Your hacking attempts didn't work then." Rocke still hadn't forgotten about the two Ottomon who'd sacrificed themselves to free him. It was still unknown what had happened to them.
"It will work this time." Matthias replied.
"And how will we transport these hundreds of refugees?" That was the rub. While Camp R stood close to Vladus' border, moving so many people even that short distance wouldn't be easy.
"We hijack them. My source says the facility has transport vehicles ready for use—fast ones, too. We'll break through the outer city defenses easily if we're quick enough," the prophet replied.
"I guess it's the start of a plan, but this won't be easy," Rocke said.
"Nothing worth doing is," Matthias replied.
"Please, Rocke. We must help them," Kallane said, her tone pleading. No doubt she was still reeling after her mother's injury yesterday, not wanting to see anything happen to another family member. Her mother was in critical condition. Losing her leadership hurt their little resistance group severely. Rocke only hoped he could manage in her steed.
"Okay, but no stupid risks." Already, Rocke was gathering all the relevant details in his head, creating a mental checklist. If he recalled right, didn't the camp sit on a rather prominent hill. Could they use that to their advantage?
"Right." Kallane gave a solemn nod.
"Give me a map of Camp R and the surrounding area. Then contact Jafia. Camp R might have other vulnerabilities. Let's see what we can do."