Loud applause erupted from inside the cavernous room. The longer-than-normal meeting was getting rowdy. She was always proud to watch her father, one of the five main leaders, up at the podium. They were unveiling a plan involving New State today, and Wren was excited to hear about it, but Rafe began with a history lesson.
She'd already been schooled on every major point in Grounder history by him and didn't want to hear it again, not that she had a choice. The people loved it! The rebellion, the righteous indignation, the hate of New State. Her father loved to get the crowd excited about their past and their future.
He was a natural leader and historian. His love of giving speeches was only slightly ahead of his love of evenings pouring over ancient books, recounting major world wars and battles, and telling the tale of how the people ended up in modern-day New State.
Today the lecture wasn't for her ears alone, and while many of the people already knew the story by heart, it was obvious her father thought it important to remind them of what they were fighting against.
His robust voice echoed through the crowds. "It wasn't a world war, nuclear invasion, or even environmental destruction that took our society down." He wasn't the tallest of the leaders, but he had charisma and intelligence. People loved him and followed him willingly, not only because of his understanding of history and politics but his genuine caring.
"Your dad's amazing," Mason said.
"I agree, but never tell him." Wren put a hand on Mason's arm. "He has a big enough head on his shoulders already."
Rafe's voice rose above her whisper. "It was technology. It didn't happen with a boom or a sudden blast. Instead, slowly, lecherously, technology crept into our lives and the lives of our children and changed them. While many people in New State would say for the better, we, the Grounders understand how it's a lie. Technology alters populations. People are not individuals anymore but consumers. They are only useful when they consume technology. New State monitors how much they spend each month, and worse, how much they are worth in bionic body parts."
Mason nudged her in the side. "How many times has he practiced this speech on you?"
Wren couldn't suppress the rough laugh. "I could give it." She turned back and mimed the words.
"Schools hailed the use of new technologies, ignoring the negative changes in students they brought on," her father continued. "From smartphones to CHIP implants, students lost the ability to make eye contact, and hold basic conversations with teachers or their peers without computers, teens who would rather text than speak. When they did write, symbols and abbreviations rather than well-developed thoughts became the norm. Even this was considered acceptable after a time. Only the elite stayed aloof from this terminal technology."
"Here it comes," Wren said.
"What?"
"His big moment. His main point for the day. Listen."
Rafe made a fist and pounded it into the palm of his open hand. "Our youth turned away, not only from each other but from parents and loved ones. Lack of emotions and lack of communication led to school shootings and increased suicides. Finally, the governments all over the world got together in an attempt to control the problem, but it was too late."
The crowd murmured assent.
"They seized control of the populace, taking drastic measures. Instead of limiting the use of technology, they praised its virtues, morphing people and machines, adding artificial intelligence chips into humans at birth, and monitoring adults with these devices. The government, in essence, limited free thought and education but told everyone it was unlimited thanks to technology. Then the world went awry. The New State introduced and extolled the virtues of 'hooking up.'"
There were a few giggles from the ancients in the room who remembered when hooking up meant something different. Not anymore.
Wren felt a prick on her arm. She watched a single drop of blood trickle from her elbow. She wiped the spot away as she surveyed the room. Mosquito? Bat? Who knew what inhabited these friggin' caves. Scanning the area, she saw only Mason, Zander, and another raider, Brenna, standing close.
"As a way to control the destructive impulses of people, the government gave them what they wanted, the freedom to be as deviant as they needed in cyberspace. Hook up at night and enjoy war, murder, life, death, sex. Be as free as you want, do anything you want, and wake up the next day feeling no remorse because while it felt real in every way, it wasn't."
Rafe's voice rose to a crescendo. "What does that say about the society we live in? Children dream of killing their former friends at school with guns and knives or letting lions eat their parents on a family trip to the Serengeti. People hook up and no longer have to worry about remorse or guilt. How is it possible to care about one another in these circumstances? Is it possible the citizens of New State can still love? Can they form the words?"
Loud applause erupted. Wren applauded as well, but after meeting Codey, she wondered if her father's words were true or if his speech had been mostly propaganda. She'd never questioned him before today.
After the general meeting concluded, she, Mason, and the raiders remained, along with the other military contingents. They listened to the leaders further elucidate their action plan.
Paul Smith, ancient and grizzled, with a long beard decorated with braids and beads, hound dog eyes, and faded tattoos peaking from beneath the sleeves of his shirt, was a decorated warrior. He'd taken down more Phantoms than anyone else in the history of the underground.
Silence blared as the room hushed, and Smith's words ricocheted from wall to wall. He was, after all, one of their five leaders.
"For the cause." His voice was strong and steady.
Hundreds of voices answered. "For the cause."
"Our new goal is twofold. First, we need to find a way into New State Archives and, second, take out as many of the Phantoms as possible. The archives store data on the citizens, and we need information to better understand how New State controls the population. This is critical if we ever want to make a real change in the lives of the New State populace."
"It's time to do something other than collect data." A young man wearing army garb yelled.
"Information on what type of military weapons New State has in addition to Phantoms is imperative. How they plan to use them in the future will guide our war strategy," Smith said, gaze hard. "Only then can we evaluate our strengths and weaknesses against New State. This data will help Grounders build a better resistance and plan future attacks. We also need information on New State leaders, but we'll take what we can get on this first attempt. After we learn more about their defenses, regular attacks begin. Infiltrating their defenses and gathering intelligence is the highest priority."
Rafe added. "This is where the raiders and our military come in. It'll be a struggle. We don't have technology-infused weapons, but we have stealth. We've been in and out of New State for years."
A murmur of affirmation rose from the raiders.
"I have total faith in our military forces. The ground patrol will be responsible for taking out the Phantoms, and the raiders will get in and out of the archive with the data we need. More information will be forthcoming, but for now, dismissed."
Wren's mind whirled. They were planning to raid the archive. It had never been attempted and in only two weeks. She'd have the chance to show her dad how valuable she was as a raider.
Dragging Mason along to join the other raiders in the long, rectangular cavern known as the mall after the meeting. Wren found a table and jumped atop it. Lanterns had been placed throughout the large, open space spreading golden light. Vendors added noise and warmth. Booths sold everything from live animals, and soft fabric clothing to Wren's favorite dessert, warm sweetened bread dough Coodles.
The smell of frying meat mixed with baking bread and more exotic recipes. Loud voices and the chaos of people created a cacophony of sound that rose into the air. Anything you want to buy can be found at the mall. People sold everything from wool to clothes, to weapons, to technology if a person had funds to pay.
Zander sat next to her. He didn't have the appearance of a fighter. While he too adorned his arms with tattoos, his pants rose too high above the ankle on his lanky frame, his spiked red hair stood at twiggy points, and wide, intelligent eyes dominated. In practice or on the battlefield, he was dangerous. When those eyes skewered you, you were going down.
Next to Zander, Brenna sprawled on top of the table, long, dancer's legs spread out in front of her. She was everything Wren was not. Catlike green eyes caught everyone's attention. Golden hair artfully twined back from her face in an effortless braid. Her pale face was dappled with freckles, and clothing emphasized her curves but remained meticulous even after practice.
They were Wren's closest friends other than Mason. Being the leader's daughter had distanced her in some intangible way from most of the raiders. While respectful, they all kept their distance, thinking she'd squeal, but Zander and Brenna never cared.
"Are we really going to war?" Zander's gaze focused on Wren.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine?"
Brenna's eyes became slits. "You have inside intel. Geeze, what are you good for otherwise?"
It was a joke, but the words stung. "Rafe's been non-communicative at home. Even with my mom." She hated to call him Dad in public.
"You'd tell us your secrets if you knew anything, right?" Zander studied her.
"I swear I have the same information as you."
"Who's hungry?" Mason asked.
Wren appreciated the change of subject. "I could eat."
Mason laughed. "You can always eat."
"What is this? Pick on Wren day?" Her anger rose.
"Sorry." Mason apologized. "Just having a little fun. I'll wait in line. What does everyone want?"
After taking orders, Mason departed into the crowds. Other meeting attendees had the same idea and came for food, gossip, and fun in the large cave full of vendor stands and tables.
"What's your dad making you study now?" Brenna asked.
"Nothing exciting. Maps of the old world. Supposedly there were continents and many countries. Nothing like today's centralized governance ruling over different areas."
"The joys of technology," Zander said. "Brings us all together in delightful ways."
"Do you ever wonder if our information is wrong?" Wren asked.
"We've all witnessed Phantoms." Zander pointed to a scar on his arm, covered with a skeleton tattoo. "There is nothing human about them. If anything, I'd say our information is outdated. I bet there's tons of technological advances."
"What was it like when you were captured?" Brenna asked Zander.
Zander had been taken alive by Hell's Phantoms two years ago and had managed to escape the prison he'd been jailed at after a few weeks. The raiders had found him close to death outside the New State barricade. He never shared about the time, except to the leaders.
He shrugged away the question. "It was dark all the time. I didn't witness anything. I was just lucky enough to be able to overpower the thing in charge of feeding me. He wasn't a hell's Phantom and more human than anything else in that hell hole."
"I would have killed myself," Brenna said, "out of fear of what they do to get information or what they'd turn me into."
Mason arrived with the food. "Whose hungry?" He set plates of fresh stewed meats and thick breads along with Wren's favorite treat. The table turned quiet as she dug in.
The reminder of Zander's imprisonment had Wren's thoughts returning to New State. Time for another raid.
Wren wanted to meet with Codey again but had to be careful. There could be no more notes.