Millenia-the-wings-of-valmar: Thanks for the review! Its so wonderful to hear from new readers. And I'm so glad you love my stories :)
Gundam Chief: Don't worry. The long, drawn-out touchy feely scenes won't last half the story. Maybe three-quarters or so.
Kidding. Kidding!
But no, seriously, even on my worst days, I hate to write long touchy scenes unless there's strong dialogue and drama to back it up. And yes, I will be doing Ender's Game after this.
Akkaari: No this is far from the last Error Corrector. Perhaps I should have said instead "and now the beginning of the end of the world as we know it". That would be a lot more accurate.
xXx
It was Easter time. The clear sky, golden sun and fresh green grass was so perfect for this day. The child wanted to throw herself on the emerald beds and laugh and roll around until there were green stains on her dress. She hated dresses but mommy was always upset when she messed one up so she would keep it clean. For mommy.
Not for them.
"The object of the game is to collect as many Easter Eggs as possible," Mrs. Romano told the class. "Whoever gets the most eggs wins the contest. First, let us say a prayer of thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ for this beautiful day and his father the Almighty for sending his only son to die for our sins. Who would like to lead the prayer?"
The child raised her hand, ignoring the looks of disbelief and disgust from her classmates. Mrs. Romano scowled at her. She always scowled when the child volunteered to lead prayer and the child was never picked on. But she always raised her hand.
"Christina. You can lead our prayer," Mrs. Romano said graciously. Too graciously the child thought.
"You can't pray to Jesus," the boy beside her hissed. "You're a gypsy Jew. Gypsy Jews can't pray to God or Jesus. They can't pray at all. You're cursed for hell. That's why you're white as a ghost."
The child's tiny hand clenched. She wanted to punch him. Daddy had been teaching her how to punch correctly, but he made her promise she would never hurt someone unless they wanted to hurt her. The child turned her head and large black eyes narrowed at the boy.
"You won't make me break my promise. You're not worth it."
"Martinelli!" Mrs. Romano snapped. "What have I said about talking while someone is leading us in prayer!"
The child stared at her teacher. "Tommy said I can't pray. He's wrong, and I told him so."
Mrs. Romano came over to her. Her eyes bore into the child's. The child held her gaze but felt nervous and angry at all the gleeful faces of her classmates on her.
"God does not save Jews, Martinelli, nor does he save Muslims or gypsy thieves. If you are so eager to interrupt prayer, why don't you confess to us all how many pockets you've picked so far?"
"She stole my cookie!" Christina cried and pointed a finger at the child. "Today! She stole it! She said she would steal my mommy's air car when she grew up if I told on her!"
"I didn't steal anything!" the child cried. Tears were forming in her eyes.
"You cry tears of guilt," Mrs. Romano smiled nastily. "Sinner's guilt. Now confess little sinner or you won't participate in the Easter egg hunt."
"God doesn't save jerks either," the child said angrily. "You confess or you're going to hell."
The entire class's laughter rang behind her as Mrs. Romano seized her arm and dragged her to the classroom.
"You stay here," the child flinched at the hatred in the teacher's eyes. "For the rest of the day. If you leave, I'll whip you myself since your mother doesn't seem very competent in teaching you respect."
"Shut up!" rage overpowered fear. "My mommy's more than you'll ever be."
Mrs. Romano stared at her for a long moment before going to the cupboard and taking something out. The child strained to see what it was but Mrs. Romano kept it hidden in her hand. She walked toward the child and threw something at her.
The front of the child's dress was now drenched in red paint that dripped down her skirt and splashed to the floor.
Eyes that were filled with fury and disbelieving hurt met ones filled with supreme satisfaction.
"I'll bet your mommy fixed you up all nice and pretty today just for Easter. Imagine her disappointment when she finds you decided to repay her by getting dirty."
Mrs. Romano left. The child didn't hear the door close. The tears poured numbly down her cheeks to mix with the red droplets on the floor.
(sinner see your blood tinged tears)
The child collapsed to her knees and sobbed loudly. Why were these people so mean? She hadn't done anything to them.
But they had done something to her.
She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to kill them. She wanted God to strike them all dead. She deserved to be loved by God. Mommy and Daddy told her God loved her so he did. They didn't deserve any respect at all.
The child took her hands from her face and stared at her ruined dress. It looked as if she was covered in blood. Filled with terror and disgust, the child went over to one of the counters. She pushed a stool close to the edge and climbed it up. With a towel she cleaned herself as best she could. She then washed her hands free of excess scarlet as the occasional sob slipped past her mouth.
Jumping off the stool, the child stared at the door. She didn't want to be here anymore. It was too scary. Mrs. Romano hadn't locked her in and the child knew it was because she wanted to whip her. If the child escaped it would be all the excuse she needed.
(don't be afraid child)
The child's eyes grew hard as she stared at the door. Marching over to it she stood on her tip-toes and grasped the knob with both hands. With a sharp twist, the door opened.
She ran outside the school and into the small forest where her classmates were finding Easter eggs. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran. Terror and exhilaration made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. She stopped when her breath had run out. Panting, she laid her small body against a tree, hands against the hard bark.
She froze when she sensed something.
It wasn't a smell or a taste but she knew…she felt someone was watching her. Eyes wide, she turned around.
There was nothing but trees and bushes. No sound except a slight breeze and the birds chirping, but the child gasped when emotion that was not her own flooded her mind.
Recognition. Then a simultaneous wave of fury, alarm and terror. It was violent but she felt it slowly die and be replaced by relief.
"Hello?" the child called cautiously. "Who's there?"
More emotion. This time intense frustration. As if whoever was watching wanted very much to reveal themselves or speak but couldn't.
The child moved away from the tree, glancing around. "I know you're there. Where are you?"
The frustration increased. The child didn't call out again. Whoever it was, they wanted to come out and her speaking only reminded them that they couldn't. Nervously, the child turned around and started to move away expecting more frustration but it never came.
So the stranger could follow her?
Nervousness progressing to fear, the child listened for more emotions. There was still anger and frustration but also confusion, wonder and longing.
Longing?
The child continued to walk and she knew the stranger was following. She continued to feel their emotions but wasn't scared anymore. The presence felt oddly safe…and familiar. The child looked over her shoulder and smiled brightly at the trees. In response a trickle of amusement leaked into the stranger's emotions. The child jumped and waved.
"Follow me!" she called and turned to run.
She laughed when she felt more amusement and began to run. The stranger followed and the child felt an unexpected wave of happiness and security, like when Mommy and Daddy smiled at her or kissed her and hugged her.
The wind whipped at her face and through her hair. It was such a wonderful feeling that the child pushed her legs faster despite growing ache in them. The stranger behind her was still following. The child smirked and disappeared behind a tree. She peered around the trunk into the distance.
Her smiled turned mischievous. "Can't catch me!"
She ran again and picked up more emotion. Amusement but also single-minded determination that was so strong the child thought it indestructible. The stranger wanted to catch her very much. She wouldn't make it easy for them.
The child rounded around a large tree trunk when suddenly a blinding pain exploded in her head. When the blackness cleared, the child found herself lying in the grass and mulch a tiny hand clutching her temple. Something wet and warm seeped through her fingers.
"Did you fall, little thing?"
The child whimpered and blinked rapidly trying to clear the fuzziness. With effort she lifted her head and saw a man standing a few yards away from her. He was young and his clothing looked expensive but his features which may have been handsome were twisted with deep loathing. He threw a rock by her prone form.
"You should be more careful."
The child managed to rise to her knees. She moaned, both from the pain and the torrent of emotions in her mind that weren't hers. This man wasn't the stranger. The stranger was still watching she knew. And their emotions were consumed with fury and the desire to kill…
Not her but this man.
"The world doesn't need clumsy little things like you," the man moved slowly forward. His cold brown eyes raked the child's form. "Antonietta made the mistake, but you will apologize."
He reached into his pocket and a silver blade erupted from his fist. The child's eyes widened with terror. What little strength she had froze in her muscles.
RUN! A voice exploded in her mind. It was deep and male and contained all the terror and fury she had felt before. RUN!
I can't the child thought. Her eyes remained locked on the approaching knife. I can't move. Help me.
GET UP YOU STUPID CHILD!
He was getting so close…
RUN! HARLENE RUN! RUN!
Even in her anguish the child was confused. Harlene? That wasn't her name. Her name was…
"Harlene. Harlene! Wake up now!"
Even before she had fully regained consciousness she sat up so fast her head swam.
"Harlene," hands gripped her shoulders and a sharp voice spoke to her. "Get up. We leave in an hour."
"God fucking dammit, Claire," Harlene's voice came out gravelly and furious. "I was just about to know what my real name is!"
Brief pause. "I'm sorry," her mentor sounded honestly apologetic. "But you know what's happened. You need to get ready right away."
Harlene stared at the sheets covering her lap, breathing slightly labored before looking at her hands. They belonged to an adolescent's, not a very young child.
"Did you have a nightmare?"
Harlene looked up at Claire Selton's tanned face, framed by long pale red hair. Her mind was instantly soothed by the concerned golden eyes staring down at her.
"Yeah," she muttered and swung her legs over the bed. Her hand brushed tangled black hair from her eyes. "Something like that."
"We can talk about later if you want," Claire said. "But you need to get ready."
"Martinelli."
"What?"
"My surname…it's Martinelli."
The corners of Claire's mouth curled. "That's Italian."
Harlene couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah. It is."
Claire touched her shoulder before heading towards the door. "Everyone's meeting on the last floor in the library. Make sure all your things are in the garage."
Showered and dressed in less than ten minutes, Harlene was out of her room and hurrying towards the library.
My last name is Martinelli.
She had always known deep down that Harlene Ballantine wasn't her real name. Claire had tried to find it, but such a project demanded more time than she could afford especially with so little leads. Harlene had never thought about where she had come from much. Dwelling on the past wasn't her style though she had planned to investigate herself when she was ready. Knowing her last name would speed the process up heavily, but knowing her full past was the last thing on her mind right now.
"Harlene?"
Dr. John Lexton emerged from the hall opposite of her. Though he was groomed and well-dressed, he looked very worn and exhausted.
Concerned, Harlene went up to him and touched his hand. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Oh, I tried," he forced a smile. "Believe me, I tried."
They began to walk. Harlene bit her lip and asked tentatively. "Did you find anything?"
"I would have told you in an instant if we had," John said. "This virus…it's nothing like anything we've ever seen. I don't know what kind of mind could have the brilliance and…depravity to concoct such a thing."
Dread unlike anything she had ever known had seized Harlene's heart when she heard what had happened to that doomed reality yesterday, but now she was recovering from the numb shock that followed.
"But it wasn't a very complex reality," she said. "Would a…bigger reality stand more of a chance?"
John stared into her eyes. She raised a few barriers to keep the plea out of them knowing it would only torment him.
"I want to say yes," he whispered. "But I'd only be patronizing you."
Harlene kept her eyes in front of her. Anger and helplessness churned in her gut.
You won't get Star Wars you fucking bitch. You won't touch any of them. They're mine and if you lay one finger on them…
They entered the library. Most of her creed was there, conversing with one another in low tones filled with grimness, worry and disbelief. A few caretakers were there as well along with Dr. Dubrinsky. Harlene was instantly subjected to the routine glares from some of her colleagues and the caretakers. This time she took extra pleasure in glaring back.
Just try it. I'd love for you to try and fuck with me today.
Dr. Lexton noticed and pursed his lips. "We're leaving in half an hour everyone," he announced. "Make sure all your belongings are in your cases. You'll only be allowed your comms during the ride." In a hushed tone he added to Harlene. "I know it's not your fault, but please don't add fuel to the fire. If anyone starts anything, tell me and I'll deal with it."
Harlene inhaled slowly and exhaled. "For you I will."
He smiled and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you."
Jacob and Roan weren't there, but Noelle was seated on one of the couches talking to no one. Her legs were crossed, arms folded over her stomach. Her brown eyes stared at her knees and were surprisingly unreadable. She looked up at Harlene's approach and tilted her head in invitation. Harlene sat beside her and smiled.
"Hey."
Noelle frowned. "Your veins are sticking out like neon signs. You didn't sleep well?"
Too jaded of Noelle's bluntness to be offended, Harlene shrugged. "Did you?" she countered.
"I'm not tired so I guess I did."
"Or maybe sleep is the last thing on everyone's mind right now."
"Yeah. Some blue-eyed chink threatens our fantasy worlds and we all turn into angry, scared shitless stiffs."
Harlene blinked. Noelle never hesitated to scorn every part of someone she hated including their race, but this was the first time she had heard her slur her own.
"The President's gonna make us fight," Noelle continued. "He shouldn't waste his breath. We'll kill anyone who threatens our realities."
Harlene could detect the fear behind her friend's harsh confidence. She placed a hand on her arm.
"We'll kill everyone who threatens our realities."
Noelle's bangs hid most of the right side of her face. They shifted so her eye was concealed but the other warmed as a rare smile curled her mouth.
"You're getting very bold little sis," a slender fair-skinned hand ran down Harlene's hair affectionately. "If you don't fight it you'll be like me in four years."
"Ah, you wouldn't like that," Harlene said smiling in turn. "Admit it. We'd kill each other eventually."
A wolf-whistle came from their right.
"Oh, come on. Don't just touch her hair. Kiss her. Kiss her."
Reflexes kicking in, Harlene grabbed Noelle around the waist to stop her from pummeling Carlos.
"Noelle, he's just being a dipshit. You've known for years that he likes being a dipshit. Let it go."
"Settle down," one of the caretakers barked.
"Make me," Noelle spat back.
"Shut up and sit down," Lev Chazan stopped his conversation with Dimitri to intervene. "Anyone who causes a fight is riding alone to Washington."
"Noelle," Harlene hissed.
Temporary peace was restored. Harlene quickly made conversation again. "What games do you think she meant?"
Before Noelle could reply, Jacob and Roan came in together. Both were grim-faced like the rest of their creed but Jacob wore an outright scowl.
"Knew something like this was gonna happen," he muttered as he sat down. "It should have happened long ago."
"All measures were taken to keep us safe from exposure," Harlene said. "The President wouldn't—"
"The President can't read minds," Jacob cut her off. "It was someone in the government who ratted us out. You can bet on that."
Harlene scowled as she remembered a smug oily face.
"Marshall."
"Huh?"
"Senator Marshall. Claire said he had ties to some kind of military organization rather than the CAA but she didn't give me any more details than that."
"Who the fuck cares about the CAA?" Jacob hissed. "It's this Virus Creed that can destroy our realities. If Christ forbid the government tells us to battle the CAA over the Virus Creed I'm gonna—"
"Be careful Jake," Roan said.
"Oh, think I'm being treasonous are you?"
"Damn it, I know what they did," Roan said sharply. "Both of them. The Virus Creed and the CAA. They're working together because they need one another. There's no other reason. If we're ordered to battle both of them, why should we refuse?"
"Because the Virus Creed makes the fucking viruses!" Jacob shouted. "Viruses crashed those banks. Viruses cut through those encryptions like tissue paper. You think the CAA could think of something like that or create something like that!? A virus torched that reality. You want the same thing to happen to yours!? To watch Will and Jack and Elizabeth be burned alive!?"
Roan paled.
"They know," Jacob whispered. "Don't you see? They know what our realities mean to us. To the Error Correctors. That's why they've decided to attack now. They wanted to make sure we would be so attached we would do anything to save them. That we'd even be willing to rebel against the government to save them."
"Jacob, no one's talking about rebelling against the government," Harlene said in a hard voice. "We were recruited to protect the realities by the American government. We will protect the realities not only because we love them but hundreds of millions of people…hell our very civilization depends on them."
Jacob's smile was almost sinister.
"Is that what you were thinking as you tried to fall asleep last night? Or were faces all you could see? Faces you would walk through hell again to make sure they didn't turn into mere memories in your mind?"
Harlene drew back as if she had been slapped. Jacob's smile twisted into a grimace.
"Because that's all I could see," he whispered.
There was a long moment of silence between the four of them. Harlene eventually broke it.
"I don't want to think about it. We shouldn't think about something like that. It's hypothetical and moreover, I would go crazy if I thought about it. The Virus Creed and the CAA threaten the realities and our civilization. If we need to fight both of them, we won't choose between the two. We'll find a way to fight both of them."
Jacob snorted. "Easy to say that now."
"You are such a pussy," Noelle said with disgust. "Thinking we can only fight one. Where the fuck is your pride?"
"Where the fuck is your brain?" Jacob countered with equal venom. "The realities belong to the government not us. And there's a war blooming outside our door as we speak. In a war, especially to the government, everything is expendable. That means soldiers and targets. Sacrifice is war. Did you ever think of that?"
Harlene's blood ran cold. She knew what Jacob meant: that if things got bad a few realities could be viewed as expendable and…
Jacob nodded darkly as if he could read exactly what she was thinking on her face. "You've seen several wars take place in your reality, Harlene. Fantasy or not, what happened in them is exactly what takes place in war."
"I won't betray America," she whispered. "I'll protect America along with our realities."
Before Jacob could reply Claire came in and announced that the battalion of National Guards had arrived to escort them to Washington. They would be put into groups of five and each group would ride in a separate section of the hover train. As the groups were being arranged Claire came over to Harlene.
"You're riding with just me."
Harlene exchanged glances with her friends. "Why?" she asked. She wouldn't mind at all riding with Claire, but why was she an exception to the rule?
"I'll tell you when we're on the train," Claire said. Her tone implied she wouldn't be elaborating further.
"You know something, don't you?" Roan stared at her with slightly narrowed eyes.
"I won't insult your intelligence," Claire said coolly. "Don't worry. You'll know while we're being debriefed by the President."
The drive to the station passed quickly even though no one felt like talking anymore. Harlene stared at the armored plating that covered the window and let herself drown in her thoughts. How funny that only yesterday morning she had been getting hyped on exacting as much personal vengeance as she could on the self-righteous fanatical fraud that was the Jedi Order. Now her very reality was in danger of being destroyed unless her creed gave into blackmail.
Her stomach tightened in a knot as faces flashed in her mind as well as memories of warm touches and eyes filled with affection and trust.
What do I tell them? How do I protect them? What will I have to do?
Her anxiety must have been radiating from her because she felt a hand touch her arm. Without a word, she rested her head on Roan's shoulder. She barely glanced at the guards on look out as they disembarked from the cars and boarded the train. When they were settled, she watched her mentor unpack a laptop and begin typing. Ten minutes passed and Claire made no attempt to explain her actions. Quite the contrary she seemed to act as if Harlene wasn't there. Harlene's fear gave way to anger.
"What's going on, Claire?"
"In a moment, Harlene."
She sounded almost casual. Harlene nearly leapt up to knock the laptop to the floor.
"What. The fuck. Is going on?"
Claire didn't spare her a glance. "I said in a moment. Please be quiet."
Harlene stared with half-closed eyes at the door of the compartment before pulling out her comm and checking the news. The CAA hadn't stopped their rampage. Five more banks had crashed and there were rumors of the Nebula Space Station being attacked. After watching clip after clip of chaos and ruin, Harlene's fear and hatred broiled in her gut until she could contain it no longer. She could have drained it, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. With a shriek she hurled her comm into the wall.
"LIKE FUCK I WILL!"
Claire looked up. Her eyes were filled with disapproval. It fed Harlene's rage to the point where she grabbed the laptop and attempted to wrench it to the floor. Claire grabbed her wrists in a bruising grip and pushed her back.
"Stop it."
Harlene gave an animalistic snarl and jerked her wrists forward. Claire released one but before Harlene could take advantage of it, Claire pushed the laptop away and stood up. Harlene found herself pressed against Claire, her face buried on her breast.
"Calm down," her grip was tight but not uncomfortable. Harlene grunted and struggled but began weakened as Claire held her and spoke in a soothing manner. "Calm down. Everything's going to be okay."
Terrified and shivering Harlene slowly wrapped her arms around Claire and tried with all her might to lose herself in the sweet warm comfort. For a few blissful moments she did. When she pulled away she couldn't meet her mentor's eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper drenched in shame.
"I know," Claire's hand stroked her cheek. When Harlene finally looked at her guilt hit her like a fist when she saw how tired she looked. Claire sighed. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have ignored you like that. It wasn't because I wanted to prolong an explanation on purpose. I had to send a report right away."
Harlene nodded. Claire was the spokesperson of the Error Corrector creed, meaning she had more interaction with the government than any of them.
"I don't know why I acted that way," she mumbled still very humiliated.
"Oh, yes you do. And so do I," Claire said seriously. "Inappropriate as it was, it was completely understandable. Though you need to have better control in the future. Hey," at Harlene's still downcast expression, Claire gently lifted her chin up and smiled. "What's say we have a cup of coffee? I was just about done with my report. We can talk after that."
Reassured somewhat, Harlene gave a small smile. "Okay."
After the coffee was made, Harlene sipped hers in silence as Claire finished and sent her report. When she set the laptop aside she took a drink and said, "The President will want to question you personally once we're debriefed."
"Why?"
"Because out of all the people in the universe, you're the only one who would keep a secret that you shouldn't if I asked you to."
Harlene frowned. "What are you saying?"
Claire sighed and set her coffee down. "I've known about the Virus Creed for years."
Harlene almost dropped her mug. "What!?"
"About five months before you were brought to the academy, I noticed that some of the files containing schematics and data about the realities' virtual technology had been copied. I didn't think much of it at the time as I thought the President had requested it from one of the Founders. He's done that before as technology always evolves, so I didn't say anything even though a lot more files had been copied than usual," her mouth tightened. "And several more realities would be dust by now if I had."
"What do you mean?"
"Three years later I was contacted by a mysterious person who called herself Daemon. She told me that a traitor dwelled in our Academy. A traitor that defected to a group of people that managed to make near-duplicates of our virtual technology all on their own. A group of people that can manipulate the interface better than we do, according to Daemon. Fries and her underlings have performed very dangerous experiments with the interface and they received astounding results. If it came to power alone, we wouldn't stand a chance against them."
The mug in Harlene's hand suddenly felt very cold. Claire sighed again.
"I know what you're going to ask: who is Daemon and why haven't I told anyone until now? Daemon told me that she was one of the rejects for the First Twenty-Five and was eventually approached by Fries. Daemon has an incredibly brilliant mind but tested out as too socially withdrawn for our creed. Fries offered her purpose and she accepted. The virus that destroyed that reality was created by Daemon. She created almost every virus that the Virus Creed uses."
"Claire…"
"Let me finish. Daemon claims that she never really asked what her viruses would be used for. For years all she cared about was exercising her genius and having someone make use of it without treating her like freak. But later she discovered, by accident according to her, a virus unlike anything. A virus that slowly chews through the very fabric of the interface. An unstoppable virus. Daemon showed it to Rebecca Fries who was delighted with it. It would be the perfect blackmail material. A virus whose own creator didn't know how to cure. Daemon never intended for her work to bring about the apocalypse so she contacted me."
"How did she contact you?"
"In person. She kept her face hidden and her voice disguised. I don't know who she really is. I attacked her the first time we met and nearly brought her in, but she convinced me to give her a chance. It was months before she gained my trust. I eventually knew she wasn't lying or she would have asked for protection. And by protection I mean close contact with our creed or the President so she could spy on us. She said she would stay with the Virus Creed as a mole. She's been passing information to me ever since."
"Claire," Harlene kept her voice as controlled as she could. "You still haven't told me why you haven't said anything about this."
"Fries knows that Daemon's loyalty isn't rock-solid. If Fries verified any evidence she received from an outside ally that there was a traitor in her midst Daemon would die. It wouldn't be an easy death, and we'd lose the only inside source to the Virus Creed that we'll ever have. Maybe the President would have trusted me, but like any good leader he keeps his enemies closer than his friends. I couldn't risk Daemon's life at all."
Harlene understood. Even if Daemon hadn't been killed by Fries, Fries would still know the government was on to her. To make sure they stayed away, she could have had more realities slaughtered.
"What's you plan?" she asked quietly.
"Daemon is working on a cure to the super virus she created. Once we have it, Fries will be powerless against the realities. Until then we have to wait."
"Claire you could have told me a while ago. You didn't have to be in this alone. I could have—" she trailed off and blushed as she realized what she was saying. What could she have done even if she knew? "Well I could have at least offered moral support," she mumbled.
Claire smiled at her gently. "I know. I wanted to tell you many times but it would have only been an unnecessary burden for you," her fingers brushed Harlene's cheek. "You being in my life alone is all the support I'll ever need."
Harlene's blush deepened but she smiled back and gently squeezed the hand against her face.
"What will you tell the President?"
"What I told you. Except a bit more watered down version. He'll know I have a spy in the Virus Creed."
"But you said—"
"Daemon and I have formulated a plan to discredit certain high-ranking CAA members. A plan that could work without endangering her only after the CAA practically declared war on America. She's made a lot of enemies among them, and when the inevitable spies in our government pass the wrong information…"
"Right information."
"Daemon has assured me she can prove her innocence to Fries. She has enough of Fries's trust. Moreover Daemon is still incredibly useful to the Virus Creed and let me tell you, they have great hatred for the CAA as you can guess from Fries's race. But the Virus Creed needs the CAA's funding. Once the Virus Creed has the realities they plan to destroy the CAA."
"Shame we're not on the same side then," Harlene muttered. "The CAA would have been obliterated by now."
"Well, we'll do what we can for now," Claire said. "Daemon's going to pass information from the CAA to the government so we can at least quell down the destruction somewhat. In the process we'll stir up paranoia among the CAA. But until she finds a cure to the virus she can't help us hurt the Virus Creed directly."
Harlene nodded then whispered, "Claire what about the traitor who defected to the Virus Creed?"
Claire smiled without mirth. "So far only the traitor knows that. Don't worry, they're not anyone in our creed. I made sure of that. But even if we knew who they are they can't hurt us any more than they have. Fries has everything she needs to blackmail us. And even if we knew the pathways the traitor made in the realities that the viruses are fed through, Fries can just have new ones made."
"I don't care," Harlene said darkly. "I'll waterboard that traitor myself."
Claire chuckled but then grew serious again. "I told you so you could be prepared for the interrogation the President will make you undergo. The government isn't going to trust me at all after this. In fact I would be greatly surprised if they didn't ask you to spy on me."
Harlene glared. "Everything you've done makes perfect sense. Like you said if you had told anyone before, Daemon would be dead and she's the only one who can find a cure to the virus. The President has to understand that if nothing else."
"Maybe. But he'll still be suspicious of me regardless. So will the cabinet members."
"What should I tell them?"
"Whatever you do, don't tell them about the super virus or Daemon trying to find a cure. If Fries gets so much as a whiff that we know that, Daemon could die. Don't tell them that Daemon was rejected from the Error Corrector program too. Those who knew her could unveil her identity. Everything else is fine. You'll basically repeat everything I'm going to say."
Harlene looked away. "So I do have to lie to the President."
"No. Tell him I forbade you to tell anyone the rest."
Her eyes went wide. "But they'll imprison you!"
"They can't. I'm the only one who has access to Daemon. The worst they'll do is put me on probation for now. They won't do anything to you either as Star Wars controls too much," She smiled at Harlene's anxiety. "Don't worry. Once they start getting Daemon's information, they'll know I'm doing the right thing."
"Can I tell my friends?"
"I know you don't like lying to them but I'd prefer you didn't. I trust them, but the less people who know the better. Besides your friends are still only human as we are. If they discuss it and god forbid someone overhears…"
"Yeah. I understand," Harlene said though she felt sick. "Claire is the President going to reveal our creed to the public?"
"He can't keep the Virus Creed a secret from the people," Claire responded. "So yes."
xXx
They didn't look as young as he thought they would, but Jon Stewart was wise enough to know it wouldn't make this any easier for him. The Error Correctors, all fifty of them were seated in a town hall along with the Four Founders. Armed guards stood at the entrances. Many more were stationed in the halls and were ordered to kill anyone who tried to get in by force.
He took a second to analyze the faces before him as he mounted the podium. The eldest of them appeared to be in their mid-twenties at the most. He had been told Harlene Ballantine was the youngest. His eyes found her quickly as her pale complexion made her stand out like a sore thumb and they lingered on her face for a brief moment. She appeared older than her age and her eyes even more so. They held the same dark grimness that mirrored those of her colleagues. Jon didn't look at Natalie, but he hoped she would see that these young adults had stopped being children a long time ago. They were already soldiers. Now was the time for them to become official soldiers.
"As you all know America is at war now," the President began. "And not just with the terrorist organization christened the Congress of Aryan Alliances. This Rebecca Fries and her Virus Creed have threatened the core of global stability. We have not received any more messages from her other than the one you are aware of. But in her blackmail, you, the Error Correctors of the United States of America have become directly involved. We still don't know exactly what it is she wants for you to do. But for now we must play along with her game. You all swore and oath to protect and serve America, and now you must fight for America. You will be indoctrinated into the USA military officially. For years your identities have been kept hidden from the people as have the realities. But now they must be revealed. If we don't, then there is a good chance Rebecca Fries or the CAA will do it for us. What's more, the populace cannot be kept in the dark as to who is an enemy and who is an ally. We as a nation do not operate that way. However, your privacy will be respected. I will not reveal your exact names or your faces, but the world will know of your existence and your purpose. They will know that you are fighting for America and the world." He paused before continuing. "A reality was destroyed in under five minutes, which means that we cannot risk looking for the Virus Creed at the moment. Until the threat is neutralized, we must agree to Fries's demands. We don't know when she will contact us again. Until she does, we must use our time wisely. After the indoctrinations are complete, you will return to your academy soon after. You will continue to correct errors in your realities but in much shorter intervals of time. To combat the Virus Creed directly and triumph, you must hone your virtual minds and bodies to their peak. You must be unrivalled warriors," Jon made sure his eyes met all of theirs for at least two seconds. "I do not want to ask this of you. You were never meant to fight wars. But times have changed. We must deal with what is. Are there any questions?"
A blond young man that Jon recognized as Jacob Ryan raised his hand.
"If we're officially in the military, do we get all the benefits? Do we get retirement? Pensions? What about a PX card?"
A few people laughed. The young Asian woman beside Jacob looked as if she wanted to clobber him.
"We'll see," Jon said. At the boy's crestfallen expression he added, "Pensions will have to wait for quite a while. But I think we can work something out as far as a PX card goes."
Lev Chazan asked the next question. "Do you know who stole access to the realities? Who betrayed us?"
"We do not. But we will find out."
"Was Rebecca Fries a reject for the Error Corrector program?" Lev continued. The youth had a very aggressive voice. "Do you recognize her at all?"
"Unfortunately no," Jon said. "But as I said we will find out the identities of her and her creed."
"You won't be able to do that, Mr. President," Claire Selton said. "At least regular soldiers won't. The Virus Creed is anything but careless. Their true identities were erased a long time ago. Perhaps they themselves have forgotten them."
All eyes were now boring into the young red-haired woman whose impeccable calm poise did not waver. All looked curious, suspicious and confused.
Except for Harlene Ballantine.
Jon asked in a controlled tone, "How do you know that?"
Claire smiled without humor.
"Because I have a spy there."
xXx
They were all granted the title of gunnery sergeant. Gwen Rand, the highest ranking officer in the Marine Corps and current Chair of the Joint Chief of Staff, told them they would be contacted when Rebecca Fries showed her face again. In the meanwhile they were to train as hard as they could in between their now-limited error correcting schedule. They would be leaving Washington after their route home was secure which would be in three days. The President told them they could enjoy their new 'perks' as Non Coms as they wanted until they had to leave.
But that would have to wait.
"What did she tell you?"
Ironically it was Roan who demanded answers first rather than Jacob. After being dismissed the Error Correctors were set up in dorms in the local military base. Noelle and Harlene shared one, but Jacob and Roan had followed them in so they could all talk in privacy.
Harlene stared at her friend's faces. They weren't accusing but very serious.
"Everything she said in the meeting," she replied.
"Bullshit," Jacob and Noelle said simultaneously.
Harlene took and deep breath and let it out slowly. "Guys, there's a lot more important things going on right now than you not knowing everything."
"Oh, and we don't know that," Noelle said with a sarcastic snarl. Her brown eyes were blazing. "The CAA is going on a fucking rampage, some Virus Creed wants to destroy our realities…stop being a self-centered condescending bitch!"
"That's rich coming from you," Harlene said coldly. "Jumping at me like that without giving me the chance to explain…and you always said I sprang to conclusions all the time when we were younger."
"Tell us what she told you then," Noelle said without apology.
"I can't. She said that the less people that know the better. I believe her."
"Is she making you help her with this? Is that why she told you? She can't have told you just because she trusts you."
"And you know that how?" Harlene was all but shouting. "Because I know, maybe I can help her in the future. And maybe she did tell me just because she trusts me. She doesn't like lying to me."
"Technically she wouldn't be," Roan muttered. "She'd just be withholding information."
"What is with you all?" Harlene shouted. "You're all acting like you think Claire is the enemy! Her reasons and her logic make perfect sense. Don't you see that she's risking her reputation and maybe imprisonment for a chance at our biggest shot at the Virus Creed!? What would you have done in her place, huh!?"
Their scowls softened at bit, but their eyes were still disturbed.
"It's not that," Jacob said at last. "We've always been soldiers. We'd never have made it this far if we were selfish little pricks who wanted to be privy to everything just for ego's sake. It's just…I have a bad feeling about this."
No one called on the cliché. But Harlene raised her brow at Jacob.
"Are you suspicious of Claire or her plan?"
"No," he sighed heavily. "I would've done the same in her place. That is if I hadn't managed to fuck everything up in the process. Well if you must know we're worried about you."
Harlene blinked. "Me?"
"Claire would have kept deeper details a complete secret if she had to," Noelle said. "And she would have. She is going to involve you directly. You can count on that."
"Guys just because I know more than you doesn't mean I know everything. Claire could still be keeping stuff from me."
"But you know more than anyone, including the President," Roan pointed out.
Harlene was silent for a moment. "If she does involve me, I won't refuse. I'll consult with you as best I can. But if I have to risk my life for duty and what's precious to me, then nothing and no one will stop me. You would all do the same."
"Yeah, but we're worried for you, you know?" Jacob said in an unusually gentle voice. "You've been our kid sister for so long…even if you do manage to kick our asses every now and then when we spar. We'd all go in your place in a heartbeat."
"And I would in yours so we're at a stalemate," Harlene smiled before becoming serious again. "I trust Claire with my life and with your lives, but I won't follow her blindly. She's still only human like the rest of us. I can only promise I'll do what I feel is right."
They said goodnight soon afterward and Harlene's heart lifted and constricted at the same time as she watched Roan and Jacob go.
We're soldiers now. There's no telling what we'll have to do in the future. They could die…
She shook her head to break off the line of thought. All Error Correctors were anything but strangers to loss and they had all known different kinds of war. It was time to know a new kind and as the President said they needed to deal with what was.
(you've been doing that for so long, child. Be strong and stand firm)
Harlene didn't want to go to bed just yet. She flicked on the television and flipped through various shows whose entire seasons were programmed to watch at the viewer's pleasure. Harlene eventually decided on the last episode of Rome, one her favorites. Near the episode's end, Noelle came to join her. She had just gotten out of the shower and was clad only in a towel. They both watched silently as the showdown between Atia of the Junnii and Lydia played out.
"I know who you are," Atia said to Lydia. "I can see you. You're swearing now that someday you'll destroy me. Remember: far better women than you have sworn to do the same. Go and look for them now."
Noelle snorted. "What a cop-out. First Atia is an evil, bitchy, dumb-as-shit manipulator and now she's the hero who'll take Lydia down? The writers must have been smoking something when they were working on this scene."
Harlene was in agreement, but her mind strayed to another subject.
"Do you ever think how different we would have been if we were born in that era?"
Noelle looked at her.
"Think about it," Harlene continued. "The women in this series had to do everything they could to gain and hold any semblance of power and respect. And it could have been taken away in an instant because of their gender and the time they were born in, so the things they had to do…the so-called friends they betrayed and killed just so they could come out on top…" she stared into Noelle's eyes. "In a lot of ways we're like them. We're ambitious and ruthless. We're not afraid to speak our minds and we would kill to protect ourselves and our loved ones without batting an eye. And the thought of doing so barely disturbs us if it disturbs us at all."
"We're not like them in the way that counts," Noelle said. "We don't degrade or steal from the people we're supposed to care about for our own ends. Atia and Servilia did care about their children, but they cared about themselves more."
"But would we have been like them if we had been born in that era?"
"Why do you care? We were born in this era. I don't see any point in wondering."
"What if we weren't rescued from the slums?"
"Again: why do you care? We were rescued. That's all there is to it."
"I guess you're right. But I can't help but wonder."
"You shouldn't wonder."
"What do you mean?"
"We do what we have to do. We're not afraid of words and we would manipulate if we had to not because we can," Noelle smiled. "We're not Atia. We have brains and pragmatism. And you baby sister have power."
Harlene looked away. "Yeah," it came out as little more than a tiny sigh.
"I said you shouldn't wonder because that's what your other friends should do. They ought to get down on their knees and thank God that you aren't a manipulator or they would have been done for."
Before Harlene could think of a reply to that the doorbell rang.
"Get dressed," she said to Noelle and waited for her to disappear into the bathroom before answering.
Two men were standing there, dressed in FBI uniforms.
"Harlene Ballantine?" one of them asked.
She nodded.
"I'm agent Bode," he showed her his badge. "This is agent King. The President has requested a private audience with you."
"What do you want with her?" Harlene was slightly shocked at the speed Noelle had dressed but her wet uncombed hair was plastered down to her glaring face.
"The President will explain," Agent Bode said, ignoring Noelle. "You need to come with us."
Harlene gave Noelle a helpless shrug. Noelle made no further attempt to stop them but she was still scowling when the door closed.
xXx
Jon Stewart was a man who valued fairness. He had questioned Claire Selton in private after she had made her announcements after the meeting this morning. It hadn't ended very well. Though he agreed that if he had acted on the information her spy had given her any earlier than now, the spy would be dead, he made it explicit that Claire should have at least told him. There were traitors in their midst, but precautions could have been made. As Commander in Chief, he needed to know any information that would defend America even if he couldn't act on it as soon as he wanted. But Claire hadn't wavered.
"I followed my instincts, Mr. President. They told me Daemon would die if I hadn't waited to tell you and Fries would have butchered more realities. I was sworn to protect and serve the United States at any cost. Even if I have to suffer that cost be it probation, life imprisonment or execution."
In the end he had put her on probation, though he took no pleasure in it. If this Daemon's information proved to be as valuable an asset as Claire claimed it would, she would be cleared of all charges. Until then she would be carefully watched. Especially since she had all but said she was still keeping things from him. He knew it was to protect her spy, but he had no choice in what he was about to do next.
"Don't try to intimidate her," he told General Rand who was right beside him. "Remember she's still only a teenager. If she resents us she won't say anything."
"If you're not firm," the Chair countered, her voice harsh and gravelly. "She'll think you're a pushover. You know if she doesn't talk we'll have to put her on probation too."
"I know," he said through a clenched jaw. "But we're still not certain if Claire told her anything more."
The look she gave him held condescension. "I was watching their faces when Claire made her announcements. She was the only one who wasn't surprised."
"We still can't jump to conclusions."
Jon's heart sunk a bit when a familiar pale teenage girl was escorted into the Oval Office.
He wouldn't take pleasure in this either.
"Hello, Harlene," he stood up and rounded the desk. "It's a pleasure to see you again."
She smiled back and shook his hand. "Likewise. I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances."
"We all are," he said and gestured for her to sit in one of the sofas. He and the Chair took the ones on the opposite sides. "Your mentor has been sent back already. I'm sorry that I had to put her on probation."
"She doesn't deserve it," Harlene said. "But I can't blame you."
Jon nodded. "Harlene I'm going to have to ask you a few questions."
"You want to ask only one," the girl replied. "And that is: What has Claire told me that she hasn't told you."
It seemed she hadn't lost her frankness since the last time he had seen her. However unlike him, General Rand wasn't the slightest bit amused by it.
"You'd better show some respect brat," she pierced the girl with a glare that made senior officers quake in her boots. "The consequences for being a smart-ass are greater than the ones for not cooperating."
"So I'm being disrespectful for saying out loud that I know why I'm here? You would rather I play dumb?"
"Please, enough," the President held up a hand. General Rand was now staring daggers at Harlene, who looked only bored. "Harlene I'm not accusing you of anything, but I need an honest answer: has Claire told you anything more?"
She looked genuinely regretful. "I can't tell you."
"And why is that?" Jon's tone was severe.
"Because of the consequences."
"What consequences?"
"If Claire's spy dies, we might as well give the realities to the Virus Creed."
"Harlene, listen to me: As Commander in Chief, I need to know any information that can help, even if I can't act on it. If it endangers Daemon, I promise you I won't. But I need to know."
"Mr. President, can you swear on your soul that this room is secure? That anyone with ulterior motives won't overhear us?"
"We can take precautions. We can make sure no one else will hear."
"So your security is infallible?"
"Harlene—"
"Mr. President," she leaned forward and there was a genuine plea in her eyes. "I do not want to do this. If I was one-hundred percent sure this room could be utterly secure, I would tell you everything in a heartbeat. But only God could tell me such a thing. I can't tell you, but I can swear on my life that the information I have will not help our situation. But it would greatly help our enemies if they knew," she sighed and for a long moment she looked decades older. "I was wrong. You want to ask something else: am I more loyal to Claire than America. The answer is no. If it would hurt America to keep things from you, I would disobey. But the last thing Claire wants is to aide our enemies in this war and she's gotten us the best chance we have to defeat them at great personal risk. If you don't trust my word, I beg of you to trust in that at least."
The intensity of her stare was beyond anything he had ever seen. Her eyes were pleading, but also accepting of the consequences that would befall her at one word from him.
She's that loyal to America a voice whispered in his mind.
After a long tense moment, the President nodded.
"Very well."
"Mr. President—"
"I said very well," he said respectfully but firmly to General Rand. To Harlene he said, "I'll give you and your mentor one chance. But if the information her spy has doesn't turn the tide, I'll have no choice but to incarcerate the both of you."
There was no apprehension on Harlene's face. Only relief. "Thank you so much."
"When did your mentor tell you about her spy?" General Rand demanded.
"Why does that matter? I still couldn't have told you."
"Answer the question."
"With all due respect, I need to know where it will lead."
"A soldier does not question their superiors, Sergeant Ballantine."
"A solider also never compromises the nation's security."
General Rand leaned forward. "I am under the President's command, but you are under his and mine. Answer me."
Jon didn't interfere as General Rand was correct. She would be seeing more of the Error Correctors than he would in the coming months. The Error Correctors weren't used to taking orders apart from the standard, and it needed to be impressed upon them that those times were over.
"A good commander does not talk down to their soldiers when they ask a question that has legitimate value," Harlene's voice was cutting. "I ask my question not to be insolent, but because I am concerned about national security. You have nothing to lose by answering it."
General Rand was perfectly stone-faced. Then she smiled.
"I think you could grow on me. Eventually."
Jon smiled slightly as well. He had chosen General Rand as Chair because she wasn't your typical commander. Now more than ever, he could see he had chosen well.
"You will show respect though," General Rand said. "You will address me as General or ma'am, and if you question me when I question you, it must be asked with standard protocol. Is that understood, Sergeant?"
Harlene saluted. "Yes ma'am."
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen years and four months, General."
If General Rand was surprised, she didn't show it. "I'll give you credit. You've got plenty of guts and cunning. Is Ybor and your mentor to blame?"
"Partly, ma'am."
"Partly?"
"Surviving Ybor and having Claire Selton as your mentor teaches you things you normally wouldn't learn and gives you a thick skin. But living to tell how you mouthed off to the likes of Darth Sidious, Darth Maul, Mace Windu, Count Dooku, Jango Fett, Aurra Sing, General Grievous and Kar Vastor helps a great deal too."